


Jailbait

by PAPERSK1N



Series: Skins!Verse [1]
Category: Skins (UK), Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse, Anorexia, Cas is Effy, Castiel is Castielle, Dark Character, Dark fic, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Gabe is Tony, Gen, Genderbend, Lots of it, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Multi, Other, Pills, Self Harm, Sex, Smut, Sort of underage but only just, Trigger Warnings, but nothing explicit, dark!fic, like hardly underage, loosely based on the plot but ah, so close to sixteen, sort of not, sort of skins, typical skins related drama, you don't have to know skins to read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1465825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERSK1N/pseuds/PAPERSK1N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean calls her Jailbait because that's exactly what she is. Temptation. Mystery. Castielle Novak is everything Dean didn't know he wanted- wait, needed. But there are problems. Problem one, she's his best friend Gabriel's little sister. Problem two, Dean's just hit eighteen, and she's almost sixteen. Fifteen. Problem three, despite all this, he just cant get her out of his fucking head. No matter how wrong he knows it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gabriel, Castielle, Dean, Sam and Jo

**Author's Note:**

> Updates when I can, which will be as frequent as possible, hopefully. I have the story all planned out, (yes, it does get darker) but I still have to write it. Please leave Kudos &if you can, leave a comment!

Chapter One:

Gabriel’s alarm blares at seven AM, and his golden eyes bolt open immediately. It’s Tuesday.

For a reason unbeknownst even to him, Gabriel hated Tuesdays. There’s just something about them that just make him want to say ‘fuck it’ to everyone and everything, which he often does anyway.

Gabriel clambers out of bed and stretches, naked except for his white boxers. A full length mirror stands on the wall facing his bed, and he glances at his reflexion, grinning, always the narcissist.

Gabriel walks over to the window, pulling open the curtains and gazing through to the adjacent window across the street. _Ah_ , he thinks to himself with a smirk _there she is._

Across the road, lives the grumpy old asshole, Mr.Hart and his beautiful third wife, Melanie. Melanie who often walks around what Gabriel could only presume was _their_ room, naked, in the mornings, right in front of the window. Gabriel grins, oblivious to his fifteen year old sister, who stands outside the house below.

Eventually, once a small pebble is tossed at his window, catching his attention, Gabriel looks down and sees Castielle, shivering in her lack of clothing, black make-up smeared just slightly down the right side of her face. Then Gabriel remembers watching her sneak out of the house whilst his father, Chuck and stepmother, Becky, were watching some crappy sci-fi show the night before.

Castielle’s big blue eyes are wide and pleading, and Gabriel smiles at her. Sure, his sister out partying all night, during the _week_ isn’t exactly reassuring but… Gabriel loves fucking with his incompetent father.

After shooting a wink at his sister, Gabriel strolls over to his stereo, switching it on to a heavy metal station, and cranks the volume up to 70, bopping his head as he admires himself in the mirror.

_Three, two, one._

Chuck throws open his bedroom door, right on cue with a cowering Becky behind him, face red and angry. “Gabriel!” he hollers. Gabriel continues to dance in front of the mirror, pretending to be oblivious. At a blip in the radio connection, Gabriel hears the distinct sound of the lock in the door clicking, as Chuck continues raging.

“God Dammit! Gabriel!” he yells. Gabriel rolls his eyes, and turns to face his father. “What?” he asks, eyes wide and innocent. Chuck frowns angrily before marching into the room, fists clenched. Gabriel looks slightly over his father’s shoulder, just past Becky, and watches Castielle tiptoe up the stairs, converse trainers in hand and creep into her room, before shooting a coy smirk at him. Gabriel smiles back, turning his gaze back to his dad.

“Gabriel, are you even listening to me? I said, turn your fucking music down!” Chuck hollers

“Oh?” Gabriel sighs, turning and flicking the stereo off. “Sorry.” He shrugs, shit-eating grin on his face. Chuck is obviously fuming, as _that_ vein began to pop out of his forehead as it did most of the time when he spoke to Gabriel, and Becky steps forwards, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

Gabriel isn’t really listening as he turns to his wardrobe, but whatever Becky had said to his belligerent father, must have calmed him down because when Gabriel turns back to the doorway, the two are gone, replaced with the slender figure of his little sister, wrapped in a white fluffy towel, hair still wet from what had probably been a quick shower to wash off the night before, dripping slightly on his floor.

Gabriel nods to her, pulling on his jeans and buttoning them up. “You okay Cassie?” he asks. Castielle just nods, a small smile on her face. Gabriel smiles. When he watches his sister sneak out of the house most nights, eyes dark and skirts short… she looks like another person. Castielle rarely speaks, but there are still so many other ways you can tell the distinct differences between the two sides of her personality.

For example, like this, wrapped in a towel with her hair just begging to curl at the ends from the wet, face washed away of make-up so you could just see the light freckles on her face, was his favourite way to see his sister. It’s odd, how putting someone in the right clothes, the right environment, the right situation, they can appear as young as they are supposed to be.

“Good. Now go, get into your school uniform before dad completely loses his shit.”

Castielle arches her eyebrow slightly, a challenging, questioning glance on her face. Gabriel grins, and pulls on a t-shirt. “Let’s just say, sister of mine, that the torment does not end there. Not this morning, anyway.”

Castielle just laughs, ever so slightly, before turning heel and walking back to her bedroom, bare feet padding on the hard wood floor.

oOo

Instead of going down to breakfast, like his dad is yelling at him to, Gabriel grabs his phone and keys, and walks into the bathroom, bolting the door immediately behind him. He brushes his teeth, and then sits on the closed toilet seat, pulling his phone out from where he slipped it into his pocket. He’s just scrolling through his contacts, looking for Dean’s number when he hears his dad scream again:

“God Dammit Gabriel! If you don’t get down here right fucking now I’m gonna break open that god dammed door and strangle you!”

Gabriel rolls his eyes, and tucks his phone back into his jeans, after shooting a text off to Dean, saying he’ll carpool him and Sam to college in about half an hour and stands on top of the toilet. He reaches for the window, pushing it open as far as it can go, and then clambers out, feet gripping the drainpipe. He can feel Melanie’s eyes watching him, so decides to show off a bit, knocking the window shut and sliding down the pipe quickly.

His feet land with a quiet thud on the floor, and he shoots a wink up to the top window. Gabriel turns and silently turns his key in the door, darting straight up the stairs. Gabriel has always been surprisingly lightly on his feet, and goes unnoticed as he enters the house, creeping back up the stairs.

“GABRIEL!” he hears, and grins before running down the stairs, making sure his feet thud extra loudly at each step. He walks through the hallway and into the kitchen, slinking down in one of the seats at the table, sharing a moment of eye contact with the reformed figure of his sister, now in her dreary catholic school uniform, hair pulled behind her in a tight ponytail.

He grabs a piece of buttered toast off the plate in the middle, just as Chuck stands up, announcing. “Good, you’re out of the fucking bathroom, finally! I need to take a dump.”

“Sorry dad,” Gabriel says, his tone light and innocent “I think the locks broken. Again.”

Chuck groans loudly, muttering under his breath something that sounded a lot like, “ _Fucking kids. Fucking Gabriel. Fucking breaking the fucking doors in the house every fucking second._ ”

Gabriel chuckles lightly as he hears Chuck yelling and pounding against the door of the upstairs bathroom. Castielle joins in, and they both ignore the disapproving looks they get from their step-mother.

Gabriel wipes his mouth of crumbs, and stands up, pulling his phone out and checking his texts. There's one from Dean, saying ‘ _Oh really, asshole? Carpool with what? You don’t have a car._ ”

He quickly types back. “ _Dnt worry. I’m just gonna jack my pa’s again.”_

“ _Ur funeral_.” Is the response he gets, to which Gabriel only replies with a smiley face.

“Gabriel, w-would you sit down please. We’re having breakfast.” Becky asks timidly, eyes wide as Gabriel grabs his jacket off the kitchen counter and begins to pull it on.

“Sorry Beck’s, gotta bounce. College, education, yadda yadda yadda.” He says, turning and beginning to walk out of the door. Becky sighs.

“Well, could you at least give your sister a ride to school?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “And you can’t because…?”

Becky blushes slightly. “Well, uhm. Your father and I have been planning on something for a while now, and, uh-”

Gabriel puts one hand up in the air, silencing her. “Forget it, I don’t care. Cassie, come on. Let’s go.”

Castielle smiles, dropping the crusts of her toast back onto her plate, and stands up, pulling her school blazer on over her bony figure. The siblings share silent eye contact, before walking out of the door wordlessly.

“Uh, uh, bye then!” Becky calls, but her only response is the door slamming shut.

oOo

It isn’t difficult for Gabriel to swipe the keys to his dad’s ford mustang, and by the coy smiles Castielle is giving him as she sits in the front seat, pulling her long dark hair out of the tight pony tail, tells him that she knows they aren’t going to school. Not today.

It takes them about ten minuets to arrive at the Winchester’s, Dean’s impeccable Chevvy Impala parked on the driveway. Well. The car is actually Dean’s dad’s, John’s, but Dean had loved the car like it was his first born son since he was old enough to walk.

The two Winchester giants leave their house as Gabriel honks the horn of his dad’s car, John standing in the doorway, scowling at Gabriel, who is grinning in the front seat. Gabriel just smirks as he watches Dean and Sam stalk down the driveway, Dean with his big green eyes and signature brown leather jacket, Sam with his backpack, no doubt full of books and other, Gabriel shuddered, _school equipment._

The two giants clamber into the car, and are instantly met with Gabriel’s chirpy voice, greeting them with a: “Hey Dean-o, Samsquatch.”

Sam frowns, slamming the car door and mumbling. “Please don’t call me that, Gabriel.”

Dean just grins. “Hey Gabe,” he says, before turning his gaze to the girl with the blue eyes. “Hey Jailbait.”

It’s something unspoken that goes on between Dean and Castielle. Dean calls her jailbait because that’s exactly what she is. He, like Gabriel is eighteen, and she’s fifteen, and even though he knows it should, that doesn't curb his interest, not one bit.

It’s bad enough that she is Gabriel’s sister, but at the same time, she is nothing like him. She has the unmistakeable dark, almost black hair and icy blue eyes that Dean could only recognise by pictures of the Novak’s mother that he had seen in the house, before their stepmother Becky had moved in. Castielle was beautiful, all pale skin and wild eyes and thin limbs. There is something mysterious, and enigmatic about her that Dean can’t quite define. Maybe that’s why he finds himself drawn to her every time they meet.

The four of them drive, with the sound of the radio humming and Gabriel’s urgent chatter keeping them sane as they speed down the road, despite Sam’s protest that _no, college is that way._

“Can it Sammy, we’re not going to college, in case you didn't notice.”

Sam groaned. “God dammit Gabriel. Believe it or not, I wanna pass law.”

Gabriel just laughs, and turns down a few side streets that none of them can name, before he’s back on the main road again. “Honestly Sam, what’s one day off gonna do? You work too hard!” he reassures.

Sam rolls his eyes, mumbling “You said that last week too.” Before turning to his brother, “God dammit Dean, will you tell him to drop me back off at college!”

But Dean isn’t listening. He’s too enthralled by the way Castielle leans against the back of her seat, eyes reflecting in the cool glass of the mirror, staring right at him, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

“Dean!”

Dean turns at his brother’s harsh call, but when he glances back at the window, Castielle’s eyes are turned too, along with the rest of her body as she faces Sam. “What?” Dean groans.

“Tell Gabriel to drop me back!”

“Not gonna happen Sammy!” Gabriel calls from the front, as he turns the radio up. “I love this song!” he shouts, cranking the volume as high as it can go. Sam whines, “I hate this song.” But Heat of the Moment drowns out his complaints, and they wind the windows down, enjoying the light summer air.

 _“It was the heat of the moment!”_ both Gabriel and Dean sing in unison, grins wide. The song ends and Gabriel turns the volume back down, ignoring a grumbling Sam behind him. He takes a sharp left, pulling into a gas station.

“Right here?” he asks, nodding to his sister. Castielle nods, and picks up her backpack, stepping out the car. Both Dean and Sam are confused, until Gabriel pipes up; “She’s going to change. Can’t be seen with us in her school uniform without someone getting suspicious.” He explains, watching his sister head towards the gritty gas station bathroom. “Hey, Dean. Go with her.” He adds, almost as an afterthought.

Dean straightens. “What, me? Why?”

Gabriel shrugs, pulling a red lollipop out of his jacket pocket and popping it in his mouth. “What kind of brother would I be if I let my poor, innocent, fifteen year old sister go and change on her own, in a scummy gas station bathroom?” he asks, catching Dean’s eyes in the rear view mirror.

Dean sighs, mumbling “Fine.” And slips out the car. he must do a good job hiding his strive to spend as much time with Castielle as possible, because neither Sam nor Gabriel bat an eye as he steps out the car. Dean snorts, hopefully those two ass hats would realise how wrapped up in each other they were soon.

He rolls his shoulders, considering the car is a little cramped in the back with his sasquatch of a brother, sighing as the tension melts away. He follows the steps he watched Castielle take, round the side of the gas station until he is met with a door marked ‘WOMEN’. He opens it hesitantly, hoping that nobody else would even consider using it.

His wish is granted, and he is met with the slender figure of Castielle, standing in nothing but a black lace bra and panty set, bent over her backpack as she scrunches up her uniform and stuffs it in.

“Dean.” She says, not even turning or looking up to acknowledge his entrance. Dean is thankful she doesn’t turn around as she rummages through her bag for her clothes, because his cheeks are bright red. He should leave, he should leave right _fucking_ now. Castielle straightens, clothes forgotten and turns to face him, smirk on her face. “Like what you see?” she asks with an air of confidence as she steps forwards, one perfectly plucked eyebrow arched.

“Easy jailbait.” Dean says in a warning tone, voice betraying what the tightness in his pants is telling him as he watches her step closer to him. Her movements are slow, like she is a panther and he is her prey. “Come any closer and I’m gonna have to call my lawyer.”

Castielle’s eyes are half lidded, her voice sultryband smooth as silk as she tiptoes up slightly, leaning closer to Dean’s face. “So call him.” She says, smirking.

Dean can’t help himself, he knows he shouldn’t and he knows it’s wrong and he knows that theoretically, anyone could walk in at any moment, but any and all morals fly out of his mind the moment her lips touch his. He can almost swear he sees fireworks.

She kisses like a porn star, rough and needy, whining and panting and moaning as she snakes her hands up through Dean’s hair, tugging it slightly. His hands settle on her hips, thumb grazing across the lines of her hipbones as he walks her backwards, straight into the stall. He doesn’t bother closing the door behind them, because there’s suddenly something _so fucking hot_ about the fact that anyone can walk in, at any moment.

She arches her back against the cool, grimy tiles on the wall, pressing her hips into his and Dean moans loudly, feeling his length harden and brush against the fabric of his boxers.

“Too. Many. Clothes.” Castielle pants, hand snaking down and popping the button on his jeans, sliding the zip down slowly.

“Fuck, Cas.” He pants as she ghost her fingers over his erection, still covered by his boxers.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was hoping we were gonna do too, trust me Dean.”

Dean laughs slightly, before all the breath is stolen from his body as she arches up into another kiss, sliding his boxers down and before he even realises it, he’s feeling the cool air rush over his length as his trousers pool at his ankles.

“Did you plan this, or something?” He asks, hands gripping her hips tightly and his thumbs rubbing across the seam of her black lace panties.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She pants, moaning as his thumb dips lower, teasingly edging its way inside her underwear.

“Yes you do.” Dean whispers, breath hot against her ear. “Letting me come in here, seeing you all bent over in your pretty black panties, ass up in the air. Honestly, Cas, I feel like you’ve been silently begging me to fuck you since we first meant.”

He slips his hand in further, more roughly until his fingers are playing in her folds, which he finds slick and damp. One finger enters her and her breath hitches, but she manages to pant out; “Oh yeah, maybe I was, but you can’t lie and say you haven’t been wanting to fuck me since we first met either.”

Dean groans as her hand unexpectedly reaches out and grips his length, her thumb pressing over the head. His hips buck up unwillingly, pumping himself into her fist. “Easy Jailbait,” he pants out, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted “I don’t wanna come until you’ve been thoroughly fucked.”

Her fingers release him, and his hand slips out of her underwear, instead moving lower and pulling them to the side. She gasps in surprise as he hoists her legs up, pressing her back against the tile wall. “I-I like it when you call me that. When you call me Jailbait.” She moans as he presses his tip against her opening, rubbing, teasing.

“Oh yeah? Well now, every time I call you Jailbait, all you’ll be able to think about is me fucking you until you can barely walk.”

With that, he pushes into her, all the way. She moans filthily, throwing her head back against the wall. Dean tries to regain some control as he fucks her into the wall, because he doesn’t want to hurt her, not really. There’s something about her that makes her different from all the other girl’s he’s fucked. She’s special, and he doesn’t know why.

They scream each other’s name as they both climax, and he has to remind himself to pull out at the last second, his load making loud a splattering sound against the tile  floor. She smirks as he lowers her down gently, her pale toes curling as they hit the cold, tile floor.

She walks out of the stall, hips rocking and reaches back into her bag, pulling out her clothes. She doesn’t say a word as she hastily dresses into impossibly tiny dark denim shorts, and a grey shirt that hangs loosely off her slight figure, cut out in the back. Dean is still trying to collect himself, coming to terms with what just happened as he pulls his jeans and boxers up, buttoning them swiftly. As he steps out the stall, she is pulling on long, dark stockings that stop just below her shorts, dark and lacy at the rim, reminding him of her underwear. She toes on trainers with a thick sole, and turns to look in the mirror.

She pulls her hand through her hair, pushing it up and out until it looks exactly like it did that night when he saw her at a house party, handing out bags of pills he couldn’t (and still can’t) quite name in exchange for cash. That had been the first time he had seen her out of Gabriel’s house, and he was shocked. He had only ever seen her in her formal school uniform, face fresh of makeup and hair tightly pulled back, and he had to double, triple check it was really her before he was breezing through the crowd, looking for Gabriel to alert him of what he was seeing

“Gabe, man, you’re sister’s here. And you’re not gonna like this but she’s- uh, she’s handing out drugs and shit man- I- I dunno.”

But Gabriel had just shrugged, smiling at Dean. “Trust me bro, there’s a lot that you don’t know about my sister. Heck, there's a lot that _I_ don’t even know. She lives two lives.”

And then the pair of them had caught eyes with her across the room, and she had waded over. Dean had tensed at the sight of several hungry glances shot her way, but Gabriel didn't so much as blink. She did though, batting her eyelashes, which were covered in dark makeup and little bits of silver glitter at the ends, swaying her hips and smirking as she walked.

“Hey Cassie. You made much tonight?” Gabriel had greeted her, and Dean’s eyes bugged out of his head.  There was a lot that he was just beginning to become aware off in Gabriel and Cas’ relationship, and even more that he simply didn't understand, and maybe that he never ever would.

Now, she leans forwards further, staring into the mirror as she applies a thick coating of black eyeliner under and around her eye, but leaves the rest of her face fresh. She tucks the pencil back into her backpack, before pulling it back over her shoulder and strolling out of the bathroom. Dean’s hot on her heels of course, still a little in shock.

“Do you- do you wanna talk about what just happened in there or-or what?”

But Castielle just ignores him and all too quickly he finds himself watching her climb into the front seat of the car. He tries desperately to catch her attention, to get one more look into her icy blue eyes but she keeps her gaze straight ahead.

Dean sighs and climbs into the seat behind her, back next to Sammy, whose eyes are fixed on Gabriel’s as the two continue to talk until Dean slams the car door shut, trying to disguise his confused expression.

“Dean-o, Cassie- you’re back! _Finally._ Now the party begins!” Gabriel says with a smirk, tossing the plastic stick of his lollipop out the window, pulling out of the gas station. Obviously the tension between Dean and Castielle in the car isn’t as prominent as Dean imagines it, because neither Gabriel nor Sam react in anyway.

“Now, as I was just saying to Sam-I-am over here, I know the perfect place for tonigh, but Dean-o, I need you to convince your baby brother to do me a solid.”

This catches Dean’s attention. “Why-what is it?” he asks, glancing at his brother, who frowns. “Gabriel here wants me to go to some dealer for him, and buy pot.” He says, eyebrows furrowed in an expression Dean has only ever named ‘Sam’s bitchface.’

Dean raises his eyebrows. “He’s not called Don, is he?” he asks, Gabriel shakes his head, shooting Dean a knowing smirk. When they were sixteen, Gabriel had convinced Dean to buy two joints from a guy named Don and… well, it hadn’t exactly ended well. “Well. No problem. But Gabriel, why can’t you go?”

Gabriel grimaces. “Yeah, that’s the thing. I sort of pissed him off, a month or so back and he, uh, he kinda wants to sever my balls so… I’m steering clear of that one. You, however, Sam, he won't know your face. You don’t hang around with the naughty crowd like me and Dean-o do.” Sam’s face is still stony, and Gabriel bats his eyelashes. “Pretty please?”

“No.” he deadpans.

“I'll suck you off?” Gabriel bargains. Sam flushes beet red.

“Absolutely not!”

Gabriel groans, pressing his head against the car seat. “Fine, buy me the pot and I promise _not_ to suck you off.”

Sam slinks back into the seat, because he knows it’s impossible to argue with Gabriel, a trickster who knows how to push all his buttons. He glances hesitantly at Dean who just shrugs, asking “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“But I don’t have any money!” Sam protests. “And Gabriel obviously doesn’t either. Because he _never_ does!”

Gabriel waves his hand, absentmindedly, “He’ll let you have it in advance. Just get like, an ounce. Tell him we’ll pay tomorrow.”

Sam groans. “Fine. But you owe me!”

Gabriel grins, clapping his hands. “Oh Sammy, you are so getting laid tonight!”

Sam grimaces. “Uh, no offence Gabe but I don’t-”

Gabriel laughs, rolling his eyes. “Not by me! Moron! I have a rule Sam, I don’t fuck friends. No matter how hot they are.”

Sam smirks. “You think I’m hot.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes again as he looks at Sam’s smug expression in his rear view mirror. “Not the point! I got us into a party, tonight. That’s what the pot is for. And I can _gurantee,_ I'll get you laid. Okay?”

Sam raises an eyebrow, shooting Gabriel a questioning glance. “With who?” he asks.

Gabriel ponders for a moment. “I don’t know. Dean, who’s stupid enough to fuck Sam?”

Dean is still silent, momentarily lost in his thoughts as he glances out the window. He just can’t get her out of his head, and the fact that she’s right in front of him, somehow teasing him with her silence is enough to make him insane. “Dean!” Gabriel calls again, catching his attention.

“Huh, what?”

“Who’s dumb enough to fuck your brother?”

Dean shrugs. “What about Meg?”

“Bingo!” Gabriel cries, clapping his hands together. “Sorted. Jo can bring her.”

“Meg?” Sam asks, wrinkling his nose. “I thought she was still in the hospital?”

Dean shakes his head. “They let her out, she’s just not allowed to handle sharp things.” He says. Sam shrugs. _What’s the worst that could happen there?_ He think to himself, sarcastically.

 “I'll get Jo to bring her, it’ll be easy. How does that sound Sammy? You get to fuck Meg, and we can all smoke some pot! But _only_ , if you’ll do it.”

Suddenly, Sam can feel three sets of pleading eyes on him as Gabriel’s stops at a red light. Sam sighs, admitting defeat as he agrees. “Deal.”

“Perfect.” Gabriel says with a smile, as he reaches into his back pocket handing Sam a card with an address on it and a cell phone number. On the back ‘Mad Ash’ is scrawled in messy black handwriting.

“’Mad Ash’” Sam reads out, raising his eyebrows “Doesn’t sound shifty at all.” He comments sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Gabriel shrugs.

“You’ll be fine. Promise!”

“Oh yeah, then you do it!” Sam calls as Gabriel stops the car, just short of an estate.

Gabriel winces. “Honestly Sam, do you ever listen? I’d like to keep my balls firmly attached to my body, thank you very much.”

Sam groans, but glances over to the estate where Gabriel is pointing, saying “Right over there, door number seven. Meet us in the Café when you get it.”

Sam goes to bite back a reply, to tell Gabriel he’s changed his mind and _no,_ he’s not doing it- but the puny ford mustang is gone, chugging off down the street. Sam groans, putting his head in his hands. _Stupid Gabriel. Stupid Dean._

oOo

His eyes scan around the cul-de-sac, until they sit on door number seven. The street looks relatively normal, but knowing Gabriel… nothing is ever as it seems. Sam’s takes in a deep breath, before walking across the empty road, towards the house.

Sam approaches the white door which is guarded by a black grating nervously, he rings the bell, just as his phone rings. “Yeah, Gabriel I’m here. I told you, I'll fucking do it, and-” Sam swallows thickly as the door is opened and a woman stands in front of him, wearing nothing but lingerie with stockings and heels, a coat sitting on her shoulders. “Oh. I'll call you back.”

Sam flips his phone shut, shoving it in his pocket. “Are you my two-thirty?” she asks, voice casual. Sam can’t form words, and his mouth just hangs open slightly, in an ‘o’ shape.

“Are you here to see Alisha?” The woman tries, but Sam remains silent. She rolls her eyes, opening the black gate. “Oh, come in for Christ sake.”

She gestures to a door, inviting Sam to step in as she shrugs off her coat. Nervously, Sam steps inside, stuttering: “I-Uh, Gabriel want’s- I-I mean, I want- I mean, I’m here for… for uh, Ash?”

“Mad Ash?” She asks, motioning for Sam to sit beside her on a white leather sofa. Sam nods, and she smiles, taking a red nail varnish off the side table, and covering her toenails in another coat, humming a pop song.

Suddenly, Sam can hear the sound of a bed shifting, and grunting coming from upstairs. He tries not to blush like a virgin, but… _damn. What the hell has Gabriel gotten me into?_

“I’ve gotta walk in on them by mistake now.” The woman says causally as she screws the top back on the nail varnish, setting it down on the table. “D’you want a coke or something?”

Sam shakes his head. “Nah- uh, do you think he’ll be long?” he asks. She smiles. “Not once I burst in all… flummoxed up he won't.”

Sam’s face turns hot. “Uh- I didn’t mean,” he glances up towards the ceiling. “Not- that… I meant, Ash, uh- how long will he be?”

“Oh Mad?”

“Yeah. Yeah him.”

“He won't be long.” She says, slipping the thin robe she has around herself off. “Just- don’t make too much eye contact- he hates that, staring. He’s sensitive, you know? Just let him do the talking.”

Sam swallows. “Right. Okay- thanks.”

Then, she walks out of the room, and Sam can hear her shouting as she ascends the stairs. “IS ANYONE HOME? I’VE ACCIDENTALLY COME HOME EARLY BY ACCIDENT!”

Sam stares down at his lap, cheeks blushing as the movements upstairs increase in pace. _Fucking Gabriel_.

oOo

After a while, Sam hears the front door click open, and footsteps move in his direction. The door to the living room in which he has been sitting for the past few minutes creaks open, and a man steps inside. He’s short, maybe the same height as Gabriel but he’s a little stockier, with a wild look in his eyes and a mullet that went out of fashion in 1987, which is odd, because he only looks to be about thirty.

The man arches an eyebrow, as he looks to Sam who sits nervously on the couch, body rigid. “You staring at me?” he asks.

“Uh- no… not at all. So- so you’re Mad?”

The man’s expression doesn’t change from one of inquisition. “Yes. I am. Ash Madison. Dr Ash Madison, actually. Of computer sciences.” He must notice Sam’s bewildered and not totally convinced expression, because he takes a step closer, and adds; “I graduated MIT. Sort of. You got a problem?”

Sam shakes his head. “No-No problems. Not at all. Uhm, so- computer sciences, huh?”

“Yeah. yeah you could say that. You could also say, that I’ve got a pretty huge dick. Yeah?”

When the man starts laughing hysterically, Sam nervously laughs along, but in his head all he can think of is how much he wants to punch Gabriel in the balls. So. Fucking. Hard.

oOo

Dean, Gabriel and Castielle arrive in the café, to find Jo already at a table, absentmindedly turning her mobile phone around in her hands, a plate of fries in front of her. Jo rolls her eyes as they enter, but sends them a small wave. “Hey gang!” She says with more than just a _hint_ of sarcasm as they sit down. “Hey Cas.” She adds, a little more sincerely.

Gabriel grins. “Joanna! You got my message, good. Party. Tonight.”

“Really?” Jo asks, raising an eyebrow as she sips from a can of Pepsi. “Who’s having a party tonight?”

“Yeah, whose party is it?” Dean asks, tearing his eyes away from Cas, who is tracing a pattern with her long pale fingers on the table top. Gabriel shrugs, reaching over and stealing several fries off Jo’s plate, ignoring the deadly looks he receives after. “Some girl from Cas’ school.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “What kind of party is it gonna be, cake and ice cream?”

Gabriel narrows his eyes at Dean. “Can it, Winchester. Some hot blonde I’ve been working on, she’s our age. She goes to the college connected to the high school.”

“So, some dreary catholic girl that you’re hoping to deflower, has invited us to a party. At her house?” Jo says, scoffing. “I find that hard to believe.”

“She said I could bring friends!” Gabriel shrugs. “Besides, I’ve sent Sam over to Ash to get us some pot, so, it won't be totally boring.”

“Wait, you’re kidding right?” she asks. Gabriel shakes his head, shooting the blonde a questioning glance. “Why?” he asks.

Jo groans. “Idiot! I texted you!”

“You did?”

“Yeah!” Jo says, pulling out her phone. “Oh, Shit.” She breathes.

“What?” Dean asks.

“I may have accidentally pressed ‘Grandma’ instead of ‘Gabriel’ shit.”

Dean laughs, and Gabriel joins in. Dean even catches Cas laughing out of the corner of his eye, covering her mouth slightly. “It’s fine,” Jo sighs, snapping the phone. “She’s old. She won't understand it. but I’ve got pot, _tons_ of it.”

“What, why?” Gabriel asks.

“Well, I broke up with Mark and he left at my house this fucking like, tin, right-”

“Wait, you broke up with Mark?” Dean asks, frowning. “Why?”

Jo shrugs. “It just- we, weren’t… you know. Whatever.”

Dean straightens, leaning across the table. “Jo, if he hurt you-”

“He didn't, okay? He’s not Michael. I broke up with him, because he’s still not over Laila, okay?”

Dean sighs. “Oh, I understand.”

“But anyway,” Jo sniffs. “He left this tin at my house, I open it and it was _full_ of dope. I’ve got joints, if you wanna smoke.”

Gabriel groans. “Great. still, I'll just call Sam, call it off and get the idiot to meet us here.”

Gabriel pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket, dialling Sam’s number. It rings and rings, but Sam doesn’t answer and it cuts to voicemail. Gabriel groans, slamming it shut. “Idiot isn’t answering.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Great. So now-”

But something catches his eye, and he’s cut off mid speech. There’s a girl, across the road that he recognises, but he doesn’t know how. Her skin is tan and her hair is dark, and in her tiny skirt, enhancing her legs and cami vest, enhancing her perky breasts with sandals framing her golden feet, she _glows._

“Who is _that?_ ” he asks, watching the girl lift the dark sunglasses off her face as she enters the café. Gabriel grins. “That, Winchester, is _Kali!_ ”

He calls her name out as he finishes his sentence, catching her attention. She trots over, taking miniscule steps in her heeled sandals and Jo rolls her eyes, finishing her fry. “There you are, _baby_.” Kali says, before she begins to… what can only be described as attacking Gabriel’s mouth.

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Jo says, pretending to gag. Dean grins at her, before looking back up to the couple. “Watch this.” He whispers, glancing at Jo, and then just past her, to Cas, who smiles mischievously.

“Hey, uh, Gabriel. I thought your girlfriend’s name was Anna?”

Kali stills her movements, eyes widening as she pulls away from Gabriel. “What?” she asks, tone harsh, folding her arms over her chest. “Are you seeing someone else behind my back?!”

Gabriel doesn’t answer his hesitant reply of “No?” quick enough, before Kali’s gaze hardens. She straightens, slapping Gabriel harshly across the face. “You bastard! Never speak to me again!” she shouts, before turning and storming out the room, heels clacking.

“You’re such a bastard, Gabriel. Seeing two girls at once? Disgusting.” Jo comments, wrinkling her nose at him. Gabriel rolls his eyes, and takes her can of Pepsi, holding the coldness to his stinging face. He flips his phone round in his hand, dialling a number.

“I guess I should probably let Anna know she’s dumped too, before Kali ruins my changes with every girl in this damn town!”

Jo frowns. “Wait, Anna? That rings a bell. What’s her last name?”

Gabriel shrugs. “I don’t know. Morn-something... morning, maybe? Something like that, why?”

Jo shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Gabriel says, putting the phone to his ear as it begins to ring. “Oh also, I need you to bring Meg to the party. For Sammy.”

Jo rolls her eyes, “Who says she’ll even come?” she shrugs.

Dean laughs. “Just tell her we’ve got pot, and all the Cheetos she can eat. She’ll come.”

oOo

“You know kid, I like you.” Ash says, grinning. “Now, what’s up, do you wanna?” he mimes something vulgar with his hips, rocking them back and forth but not once breaking eye contact with Sam, who shakes his head.

“Uh- no. I was looking to, uh, maybe… get some, pot?”

Ash sticks a joint between his lips, lighting it up with a zippo. “Are you being fucking funny?” he asks, voice turning from playful to harsh in a second.

“Absolutely not.” Sam says, swallowing in a shallow attempt to conceal his nerves.

“Then show me some money.”

Sam grimaces slightly. “Right, well that’s the thing… because- uh, someone said that maybe I could get the stuff and pay… pay later?”

Ash arches a brow. “Wasn’t Gabriel Novak, was it?”

Sam shakes his head, hoping the blush no doubt climbing up his chest is noticeable. “Definitely nobody by the name of Gabriel.”

“Whoa!” Ash snaps, throwing the joint onto a table, and moving towards Sam, who backs up. “Why’d you mention Gabriel? Little shit!”

“I-Uh, I didn't- Mr… Mr Mad. You did.”

Ash straightens, gaze questioning. “I did?” he asks. Sam nods. “Oh. Well still, credit terms, that’s just a whole fucking shark tank there, mate!”

“It-it’s okay, I understand! Let’s just forget it!” Sam stutters, trying to walk past Ash and out the door, but the mad man blocks his way. “Fuck it. It’s your game, if you wanna play it. Do you wanna play?”

Sam is hesitant, two sides of his brain fighting each other. On one hand, he should walk away now with his balls intact. On the other hand, Gabriel said he could get laid.

“Uh, yeah. yeah I do. Wanna- play, that is. Uh, how’s about, an ounce? An ounce of pot?”

Ash nods. “Three ounces.”

“Uh. No- one, just one ounce.”

Ash shakes his head picking his joint up from the table. “No. three ounces. That’s two hundred and fifty dollars of easy credit. So you’ve got 48 hours to pay me.”

Sam takes a few steps back, until he falls down onto another couch. There’s plastic covering the pillows which makes an awfully sinister squeak, as Ash moves closer, sitting beside him.

“Have you got balls?” he asks.

Sam nods. “Uh, yeah- yeah I do have… balls and oh-”

He is cut off by Ash, moving his hand towards Sam’s crotch and squeezing his balls tightly through the fabric of Sam’s trousers.  “Hm.” Ash muses, before squeezing tighter, once more and then releasing them. Sam breathes heavily, as Ash continues, saying “I was just checking. Because you see, your balls- are your collateral. You got me?”

Sam remembers Gabriel in the car earlier, _He wants to sever my balls_ and nods nervously, “I got you.”

oOo

Sam arrives back at the café around half an hour later, pissed that Gabriel’s phone was engaged and that Dean wouldn’t answer his. He arrives to find nothing but an empty booth, and groans. _I guess we’re not hanging out then._

Heading to the bus stop, with three ounces of pot in his bag, Sam grumpily takes the bus back to his house.

He flops back on his bed, breathing regulating for the first time since doing Gabriel’s dirty work, when a knock is heard from his door.

“Come in.” he calls, sitting up.

John Winchester stands in the doorway, running a hand through his dark hair. “Hey-Uh, hey Sam.”

Sam flashes him a half-assed smile. “Hey dad.”

“I, uh, phoned you, earlier?”

Sam frowns. “Did you?”

John nods, swaying slightly. Sam sighs, realising that he’s drunk. “Yeah- you, uh, said something like, ‘Yeah Gabe, I’m fucking doing it.’ or something like that. What were you doing?”

Sam’s eyes widen, and he prays his dad is too drunk to remember this in the morning. “Uh, nothing. Just… college stuff.”

“Right.” John says, nodding. Suddenly, his face twists into one of confusion. “Hey, why aren’t you at college?”

“Uh, half day.” Sam lies. “I only had one class.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, goodnight Sam.”

Sam swallows thickly, glancing at the clock. _14:55._ “Yeah,” he says with a sad sigh. “Goodnight dad.”

John shuts the door, leaving Sam in the darkness of his room. He flops down on his bed, sighing.

_When did my life become so shit?_

However, he finds himself cheered up to receive a text, an hour later from Gabriel.

_Gabe With The Huge Dick_

_15:58_

_Had to split, got some shit to sort out before later. Party Address. 47 Sulivan Gardens. Meet us there, 8:30._

_P.S I changed my name in your phone. Hope you like it. xxx_

Sam smiles, despite himself, clutching the phone to his chest. So maybe he likes Gabriel a tiny bit, he thinks to himself. Still, that didn't answer Sam’s other question.

_Where the fuck was Dean?_

oOo

“Why do you call me that?” Castielle asks, blowing smoke out of her pouty lips as she leant against the brick wall, blue eyes fixed on Dean. He remains silent, pacing up and down in front of her as he’s been doing down this crappy alley for the past ten minutes “Why do you call me Jailbait? As far as nicknames go, I’m used to Cas, and Gabriel calls me Cassie but… why Jailbait? And another thing-”

Her thoughts are cut off by Dean’s hand, grabbing her face, tightly. His movements are assertive, but still gentle. He takes a step forwards, so their faces are closer, and he strokes his thumb from her cheek down to her lip. He sighs. “Because, Cas, that’s exactly what you are.” He leans closer still, their hot breath mingling in the air. “Jailbait.” He whispers against her lips as she tiptoes upwards, slightly, closing the distance between them, pale chapped lips pressing into Dean’s own, which are soft and strong.

He releases her after a minute, probing his cheek with his own tongue. She tastes like cigarettes and cherry lollipops. Like danger and innocence all in one slow swoop of his tongue across her teeth. Slowly, he moves his hand down from her face, stroking it across her pale cheek lightly.

“We can’t do this. Not again, Cas. Castielle.”

He straightens, trying to regain his composure. He face doesn’t change, and her eyes are challenging, daring him to try, just to have another taste of what’s in store. But he can't, and he knows it, hands balling into fists.

He takes a deep breath, before stepping backwards again, and turning down the alleyway, away from her. As he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, and places it in his mouth, he hears her voice calling for him. He turns, and she grins. She’s got him, she’s completely _got him_ and he knows it. They both do.

“I like it when you call me Jailbait.” Is all she says, before she turns and walks the other way, exiting the alley, leaving behind only the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

Dean knows this is not the end. Not for them. Even though it probably should be.

OoO

“Jesus, is that it?” Sam asks in awe, turning to Gabriel as they stand just past a set of black gates, looking to the large white house in front of them.

“Yep, that’s Annie or… Abbie… or whatever’s party. And we’ve got to sell an ounce of dope.”

Sam winces, slightly. “Yeah, listen Gabriel about that-”

But he’s interrupted by the voice of his brother, jogging up behind them. “Sam, Gabe, I’m here!”

Sam sighs. “Oh, where the fuck have you been all day?” he asks. Dean just shrugs.

“Nothing- nowhere. How’s dad?”

Sam rolls his eyes. He’s used to Dean being secretive. “He’s drunk, how’d you think?”

“Bastard.” Dean mutters under his breath. He looks over to the house and lets out a low whistle. “Jesus Gabe, there’s no way you’re scoring with any of these girls.” He comments with a laugh.

“Can it- Winchester. Even if we don’t score, I’ve got a plan for the pot so your baby brother doesn’t have his balls severed. The plan is, we tell them it’s some like… Mongolian hallucinogenic or something. They’re all so dim they might buy it.”

Dean shrugs. “An ounce is easy to sell. No problem.”

“Yeah- you see that’s the thing-”

“Hey, where’s your sister?” Dean asks, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible. Gabriel shrugs, and thankfully, doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes. Dean knows his eyes have always been able to give him away.

“She got a better offer. Some guy named Crowley.”

“Listen, guys, about the pot-”

“Gabe!”  A voice calls, and the three turn to see Jo run across the street, pulling Meg behind her. Meg looks so different from the last time they saw her, her hair now bleached blonde, with visible scars on her pale wrists.

“Hey. Meg, you made it. Nice.” Gabriel says, eyeing her up and down. Meg doesn’t respond, instead stares at Sam. Sam smiles at her, but there’s something different. She looks lost, and nothing like the Meg Sam and Dean used to knock around with.

“Where’s Anna? Not take the breakup well?” Jo asks with a coy grin, nodding to Sam. Gabriel grimaces.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. Firstly, fuck you, secondly- she’s pretty pissed. Probably shouldn’t have told her about Kali. Or Michelle. Or Amy. Oh, and also,” Gabriel pulls himself out of his thoughts. “We’ve gotta help Sam sell an ounce of dope or he’s getting into shit with his dealer.”

“Hang on , _my_ dealer?” Sam asks.

Gabriel shrugs, and Jo swiftly changes the subject. “So yeah, I brought Meg.” She turns to the girl, who smiles tightly. “Meg, you remember Sam and Dean, right?”

Meg smiles again, but it doesn’t look anywhere near sincere. “Yeah, wow. You boys really ate your vegetables, huh? Still got that stupid haircut though, moose.”

Everything turns silent, and Sam awkwardly stares at his shoes. Meg just smiles, and for a second, Dean sees the hint of mischief he always used see in her eyes before- well.

“So, how’s the treatment going Meg?” Gabriel asks.

“Yeah. It’s just peachy,” she says, voice _dripping_ with sarcasm. “I get to wear I white dress and now, I can actually eat yoghurts, soup and hazelnuts! Also, I get to play with the cats. It’s like… _hazy days._ You know?” she finishes with a smirk, her arms folded.

“Well. That’s great.” Gabriel says, playing with his keys, twirling them around his finger. Then Meg lunges at Gabriel, kissing him straight on the mouth. Gabriel, because he’s _Gabriel_ doesn’t stop her, of course, but luckily, Jo’s there. She pulls Meg away, saying “No, Meg. _Sam’s_ gonna be looking after you tonight.”

Meg steps away from Gabriel, who has his patented cat-got-the-cream look, and smirks at Sam. “Lucky me, a _Winchester_. Hope you’re as good as your brother.”

She sends a smarmy look towards Dean, who frowns at her. He’s starting to remember why he was so happy when Meg left a year ago for the hospital.

“And Sam’s got a whole bag of drugs.” Gabriel says, patting Sam hard on the back. He leaves it there a second longer than he should, just resting on Sam’s lower back. Sam pretends not to notice, hoping Gabriel will just leave it there but- no, it’s back by his side. Gabriel slips his hand into his pocket. Maybe it’ll be safer.

“Wow. That’s so romantic,” Meg deadpans, before smiling widely.

“Right. Great. Now that we’re all, uh, friendly- let’s go shift this ounce.” Gabriel says, walking towards the house. Sam grabs him by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He turns.

“It’s uh- three ounces. Actually. I got three.”

Gabriel’s face turns to one of shock, and annoyance as Sam pulls a plastic supermarket bag out of his backpack. “Nice one, Samsquatch.” Jo says, smacking him in the stomach.

oOo

They ring the doorbell, and Abigail answers, all blonde hair and big teeth. “ _Hi,_ Gabriel.” She says, her voice high and british. Jo mime’s yawning to Dean, but he doesn’t meet her eye. She frowns.

“These must be your friends!”

“Uh, yeah, this is Jo, Sam, Dean and Meg.” Gabriel says with a smile. Meg pushes forwards, past the blonde and walks straight into the house. “Nice place.”

“Uh, thanks. Yeah, come in.” Abigail says, stepping away from the door. The other four follow in, and Gabriel shoots Abigail a smile. They reach the living room, Meg disappearing down a corridor somewhere when Abigail stops them.

“Oh, Shoes!” She says, glancing to their feet. Met with four questioning glances, she added. “You see, mummy just had this carpet imported from Iran and… well, you know we have to be so, _so_ careful.”

“Oh, do _shut up,_ sister of mine.” A voice chimes from behind them. They turn, and are met with a blonde boy, wearing a shirt and dress trousers, leaning on the banister, a glass of wine in his hand.

“Go _away_ Balthazar. This is _my_ party!”

The boy, Balthazar, rolls his eyes, and struts forwards. “God, how did you turn out so _boring._ Party’s in there guys, and please _do_ keep your shoes on. I love the look on her little face when people don’t do as she says.”

Gabriel smirks, and Jo laughs. “Nice.” She says, shooting Balthazar a grin. He just smiles, and they walk into the front room, leaving the bickering siblings behind them.

Abigail leaves Balthazar, and storms into the living room. She makes a point of introducing them to everyone, and offers them rum punch. Jo sips hers, and then sets it down on a table.

“Tastes like… tropical juice.” She says, wrinkling her nose.

“Thought you liked tropical juice?” Dean asks. Jo rolls her eyes,

“I didn't come here to drink tropical juice. I came here to get fucking wasted.”

“Yeah.” Dean says, taking another sip of his own rum punch. Jo narrows her eyes. “What’s with you tonight? It’s like you’re a million miles away, or something. Girl trouble?”

Dean straightens. Jo grins. “So it _is_ a girl?”

“Leave it Jo.” He warns.

“Is it Lisa? Or, uh, what was that other girl’s name. Cassie?”

When she says Cassie, all Dean doesn’t think of _Cassie_ his ex girlfriend. All he can think of is _Cas,_ _his Cas. Jailbait._ “I said leave it, Jo. It’s none of your fucking business.

“Fine.” Jo says, folding her arms. “But I'll find out. I always do.”

OoO

“So, Annie-”

“It’s _Abigail._ ”

“Right, Abi? Do you mind if I call ya Abi?” Gabriel doesn’t wait for her response, and smiles. “Good, that’s my girl. Now, we were just wondering, me and my friends, if- uh, if you and your friends would wanna try a little something?”

“Like what?” she asks, eyes confused and innocent.

“You know,” Gabriel mimes smoking with his hands. “Get a bit… _squiffy_.”

Jo laughs. “ _Squiffy_? C’mon dude.”

Gabriel shoots her a look, and before she can bite back a reply, Abigail buts in, saying; “ _Ohh,_ Ya, that would be so safe. Yeah.” Abigail says. “But, we can’t smoke anything in the house, okay? Because the salt wallpaper has just arrived from Rome and-”

Abigail continues her babbling about _mummy_ and _oh maybe we shouldn’t actually_ and _Oh, but my calculus exam is tomorrow and_ until Balthazar struts in, wine glass replaced with a bottle. He slinks up to a brunette girl in the corner, and begins to sway his hips along to the music, whispering (loudly) something that sounds like… _Italian?_

 _“_ Balthazar! Piss off!” Abigail calls, before turning back to Gabriel. “So we can’t go wild. Not really.”

“Oh,” Gabriel says, looking down. “Bummer.”

There’s a pause as someone stops the music, changing it to something on that resembles a hip hop track, with loud beats and a lot of swearing, and the dreary posh kids begin to dance, but their moves are uncoordinated, and clumsy.

“Wow Gabriel, isn’t this just bitchin’!” Abigail shouts over the bass line.

“It’s uh, it’s somethin’ alright.” Gabriel says, grimacing slightly as she turns and dances away, arms and legs flailing. Jo can’t stop herself, she starts laughing, hysterically and Gabriel shoves her lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, okay Harvelle. You win. Now, wanna show them how it’s really done?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jo rolls her eyes. “Fine. But as soon as you get a boner, I’m so shaming you!”

“Hey Sam, don’t wait up. Go find Meg!” Is the last thing Gabriel calls before he’s on the dance floor, and Jo’s got her hips pressed against him, the two grinding in the middle of the floor, swaying to the music. Dean’s gone, he realises, off eyeing up some girl with a petite figure and dark hair, miles from his normal type, and Sam sighs. His eyes move back to Gabriel and Jo’s movements, and he feels a pang in his stomach. Jealousy?

He turns, heading in the direction Meg went earlier. He finds her in the kitchen, with no shoes on, sitting on the kitchen counter. “Isn’t this party, I don’t know, _bitchin’_ ” she asks, with a grin. Sam smiles.

“So you heard that?” he asks.

“Yeah. I heard.”

The two go silent for a while, as Meg twirls a glass off something pink in her hands. “So,” she says, catching Sam’s attention. “Are you going to fuck me later?”

“What?” Sam asks, feeling his cheeks go hot.

“Like Gabriel said?”

“He said that?” Sam asks, looking down at the suddenly _very_ interesting counter.

“Oh yes.” Meg says, smirk returning. Sam sighs.

“Look. I’ve got all this fucking weed. D’you want a joint or something?” he asks, setting the bag down on the table.

“No.” she says, voice quieter. “It makes you hungry.”

“Oh. Well I don’t mind.” Sam shrugs.

She catches his eye briefly, and looks down. “I do.”

“Sorry.”

Sam leans forwards, hesitantly, and places a light kiss on Meg’s cheek. It isn’t her fault, not really. They all know she’d been through some stuff… with Crowley and shit. And Dean might call her a bitch, a lot but… Sam likes to think that he knew her differently.

“Thanks.” She says. “You can keep me company, yeah?” She asks, voice almost hesitant as she looks up at him. Sam smiles. “Yeah.”

OoO

Hours later, the party is still going on inside, but Sam isn’t there. He watches Meg bounce up and down on the trampoline a little, grinning before flopping on her back and laying down. It’s light outside now, Sam realises.

“You okay Meg?” Sam calls.

“Yeah, get up here moose.”

Sam clambers up, tripping slightly. He shifts awkwardly so his arms are either side of her slight body, their faces close. He leans in, maybe to kiss her, he doesn’t know, but she her head turns, stopping him.

“It’s no good though, is it moose? You don’t like me, not really.” She says.

Sam blushes. “Well, I- I kinda like you. We were friends, right?”

She smiles. “ _Friends._ Exactly. And sure, you don’t mind the look of me, and you’d fuck me but… you _really_ love Gabriel.”

Sam sighs, flopping down on his back beside her. “Does it show?” he asks.

She nods. “Plain as the eye can see. But you know what Gabe’s like, never tied down, always fucking someone- boy _or_ girl. In fact, I’m fairly sure he hooked up with that Balthazar dude earlier.”

“Really?” Sam asks. She nods.

“Really really. But still. You’ll have your chance. Promise.”

“How’d you know?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I just do… okay, I-I-”

Her eyelids droop slightly, and she goes quiet. Sam feels her hand bush slightly against his. “Everything is so shit.” He sighs.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed?”

“What would you do, if-if everything was just so fucked up and you didn't know what to do?” he asks.

She turns, her almost white hair fanning out around her. “I’d stop eating until they take me to the hospital.” She whispers, their eyes meeting. He never realised how dark her eyes truly were, until then, her pupils blown wide.

Sam stays silent. “You wanna do it now?” she asks

“Huh?”

“But you’ll have to be quick.”

“Wha-why?” Sam asks.

“Because. I took a shit load of pills.”

Sam stiffens, sitting up slightly. “Pills? What kind of pills?” he asks, tone turning worried.

“Oh you know,” she breathes. “Pills.”

Then she goes silent, her eyelids shut. “Meg! Meg!” He calls, shaking her slightly. “Oh, fuck!”

OoO

He hoists Meg over his shoulder, walking into the house that is now _nothing_ like the salt walled- Iran carpeted heaven it was the previous night. Jo runs through, almost into him with Dean close behind, who’s missing a shoe and then Gabriel busts out of a bedroom in a shirt that is considerably _not his_ and his jeans. Close behind him is Garth, in just his striped boxers, slurring out obscenities, being carried by Benny.

“What’s wrong with her?!” Jo shouts.

“She’s pilled up!” Sam shouts, and everyone moves on autopilot. Dean swears, before lifting Meg out of Sam’s arms and running outside, Jo close behind her.

“Gabe, Benny! Come on!” He calls as they run out the front door. Gabriel picks up a discarded jumper off the floor and tosses it to Garth.

“Wait,” Sam says to Gabriel. “How did Garth get here? And-and Benny?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “How does Garth get anywhere?” he shrugged, pulling the boy behind him, running out the front door.

OoO

“Nice one Garth!” Benny says, rolling his eyes at the nearly naked boy as the door is slammed behind them.

“Good party.” Garth smiles.

“Uh, guys, don’t you think we should go to the hospital, considering Meg might be dead.” Sam says. His tone is sarcastic, but it doesn’t hide the worry and panic in his eyes. He should’ve known. He should’ve fucking realised.

“There’s a late night drop in at the ER round the corner, we should take her there!” Jo says to Dean, running her fingers through her hair. “That’s where I normally take her.”

“That’s miles!” Benny says.

“How the fuck are we gonna get there?” Dean asks, eyes still adjusting to the sunlight. Suddenly, Garth’s hand roots into his boxer shorts.

“Garth, please. Now is not the time!” Sam shouts, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“Nooooo,” Garth slurs pulling out a pair of keys. “Sw-swiped these off the… the counter. We steal car, yeah?”

The group share a look with each other. Dean grins, yanking the keys. “Yeah!” he says. Then grimaces, allowing the keys to dangle by the rim. “Ew, still warm.”

oOo

They race down the streets, and it’s not ideal or anywhere near legal, seven of them in a five seater, but they make it work. Dean’s driving isn’t at its best considering he’s still a little… inebriated.

“Be fucking careful!” Gabriel shouts from the front seat.

“Where’s the fucking gearbox on this thing?!” Dean shouts.

“It’s a fucking automatic!” Jo shouts, “Watch the road!” they swerve, narrowly missing a car. The car erupts into a chaotic scene of shouting and pointing, whilst Meg continues to lie across the front seat, on Gabriel’s lap. “I don’t think she’s breathing!” Jo shouts, reaching forwards.

“Wait! There it is!” Benny suddenly points. Dean makes a sharp right and they pull up at the back entrance of the hospital.

“Go, get her in!” He shouts, glancing to Gabriel.

“And say what?” Gabriel replies, his own voice raising.

“I don’t know! Do what you fucking do best! Lie! Improvise!”

Dean’s looking forwards out the window, weighing up his options of stashing the car as everyone falls silent.

“Well what are you waiting fo-” he begins to say, but turns, and see’s Meg. Everyone’s expression turns to relief, and she grins from the front seat.

“You know, I had such a _lovely_ dream.”

oOo

They drive away, fully intending on getting back to Abigail’s house and returning the car they ‘borrowed’ but after endless whining from Garth, they make a stop in front of the local harbour. Garth darts out, running straight to piss against a tree. Sam climbs into the front seat, Gabriel now in the driver’s seat with the rest shoved in the back.

“Go on, get it out.” He says, nodding to Sam. For a moment, Sam thinks something _far_ from what Gabriel means, and the older boy rolls his eyes. “We may as well have a few joints before you get taken out in deep water.”

“Oh!” Sam says, realising Gabriel’s meaning. He reaches down to the floor and picks up the bag.

“May as well light up before your light gets… blown.”

“Ah. Thanks Gabe. Thanks.” He says, shooting Gabriel the ‘bitchface’.

Gabriel shrugs casually. “Relax, we’ll sell it tomorrow.” He says, waving his hand.

“Really, where?” Sam asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“We will, okay?”

Meg sits looking outside the back window, staring at the river. “I like boats. My dad, he used to own a boat. Or was it a Cadillac?” she muses.

Jo exchanges a look with Benny and rolls her eyes. “That’s nice Meg.”

Gabriel leans forwards, glancing out to Garth who is still standing, albeit a little wobbly at the tree. “You okay, Garth?” He asks.

“Shut up, I-I can’t pee with you all looking!”

They all snicker, but continue to stare. Garth stops. “You’re looking aren’t you?”

“No.” they all lie. They laugh again, before turning away and soon the faint sound of pee trickling on the tree is heard.

“Hang on, who’s got skins?” Sam asks, untying the paper bag..

“I do.” Gabriel says, rooting through his jacket pockets, searching.

“You do have them, right?” Jo says. “Because I left mine at home, like you said!”

“Relax,” Gabriel says, smiling. “We’ve had all our bad luck for today.”

“You put them in your back pocket.” Sam says, glancing down.

“Oh, Sam, checking out my ass again?” Gabriel says with a grin. Sam flushes slightly, but scowls at Gabriel. “Shut the fuck up, Milton.”

Gabriel shifts in his seat turning to reach into his pocket, Sam leans over too, trying to help him. He feels his knee bump against something, and _Oh crap_ he thinks- _the handbrake!_

“Gabriel!” Jo screams as the car rolls forwards. But it’s too late, and the car falls straight into the water.

Garth turns, pulling up his boxers and shouting “oh fuck!” as he runs to the edge. Eventually, the six heads bob up from the river. “Oh my god!” Benny shouts.

“Oh fuck!”

“Gabriel! You idiot!” Jo shouts.

“I think that could have gone a lot worse, don’t you?” Gabriel replies, smile still plastered on his face. He turns to Sam, who would usually be the first to laugh, but the Winchester’s face is stricken with panic. “The dope’s gone!” he shouts.

“Oh fuck.”

“At least we have our health!” Meg drawls, smirking as she swims up and down. “That’s the important thing!” she calls, turning to float on her back.

oOo

They walk home, together, soaking wet. No money, no phones. No way to get anywhere near home. Not even any weed. It’s cold and the fabric sticks to their skin. Sam runs a hand through his wet hair and sighs, pushing to away from his face.

“What a great fucking day.” Sam sighs.

oOo

and that’s how he ends up in Gabriel’s bed. The two of them stripped from their damp clothes, laying under Gabriel’s crudely decorated sheets. They don’t touch, or anything like that. They just lay, side by side, bodies not quite as close as Sam would like.

“You told Meg I wanted to fuck her.” Sam says, after a period of silence.

“Yeah.” Gabriel sighs, turning his head to face Sam briefly. “And did you?”

Sam shakes his head. “No.”

“Good.” Gabriel says, a slight smile playing on his lips.

“Why is it good?” Sam asks. “I didn't get laid. Unlike you, apparently.” His eyes flit up the top half of Gabriel’s torso that he can see above the cover, which is littered in bruises and hickeys and bite marks. Sam’s stomach coils in jealousy. _He_ should be the one giving Gabriel those marks. Nobody else.

Gabriel shrugs. “True. But Meg wasn’t right for you. Not really. You deserve better.”

“You really think that?” Sam asks.

Gabriel smiles. “Yeah. I really do.”

Sam smiles back at him. “Thanks. But I should really get home.” He sits up slightly. Gabriel doesn’t move, and his eyes remain closed.

“You _should_ … but will you?” he asks.

Sam sighs, very quietly, and flops back down on the bed. His arm knocks Gabriel’s slightly, and their hands touch. Sam doesn’t know how to react, if he should move it away or- but then, Gabriel reaches slightly, and clasps their hands together. Neither of them speak. They don’t need to.

 


	2. Sam, Dean, Crowley and Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week or so after their last escapade, the gang are invited to one of Crowley's famous parties. Nothing is as it seems.

Chapter Two: Sam, Gabriel, Crowley and Dean

Meg is the first to wake up, her eyes slowly peeling open as light streams through the windows. Did her mom open this window? Wait. She sits up and with a quick glance to her surroundings, realises- this isn’t her house. This is Jo’s house. They had a party.

She’s still dressed, which is always a good sign, so she stretches her arms out wide. Her left hand is covered in something translucent and sticky, and she grimaces as she wipes it on the couch cushion.

Standing up, she stretches again and takes a glance at the clock on the wall. 07:35, good, she won't be late to her weigh-in at the clinic. She’s gained her half-kilo, and to be honest, she’s proud of herself. it doesn’t matter if nobody else gives a fuck, because _she did it. On her own._ Meg step over the empty bottles littering the floor, and tiptoes into the kitchen. Everyone else must still be asleep.

The walls of the kitchen are trashed, covered in food. Meg vaguely remembers a food fight, instigated by Gabriel (obviously) last night. She rolls her eyes, flicking the tap on and washes her hands. She turns to the fridge, looking for a bottle of water. Inside, is only empty bottles of beer and vodka, and something that may resemble a cheesecake, but probably isn’t. Meg sighs and closes the fridge.

A bright post-it not catches her eye as the door closes. It’s a little smeared with pasta sauce, but she can still make it out. It reads: **_Mom home, 7:45_** in Jo’s barely legible scrawl. Maybe Meg should warn her. Jo’s mom, Ellen, is not a woman to mess with.

Meg creeps up the stairs, stepping over the sleeping form of Garth, who appears to be cradling a bottle of WKD like a teddy bear. At the top of the stairs, she can vaguely see Benny and Gabriel passed out in the bathroom, and she laughs, pulling out her phone and taking a photo. _Idiots,_ she muses to herself.

She turns the handle to Jo’s bedroom. Sam is asleep on a bean bag, half-drunk bottle of beer still in his hand, and what looks like whipped cream smeared on the side of his face. He also isn’t wearing a shirt, which makes Meg grin.

Jo’s passed out in her bed, next to a mostly naked Dean, who is snoring loudly. _Typical Winchester, always finds his way into the host’s bed._ She thinks, shaking her head. Not that Jo would be idiotic enough to actually sleep with the elder Winchester, of course. Meg leans forwards, shaking Jo’s arm slightly.

“Hrmphh”

“Psst. Jo.” She whispers.

Jo turns, mumbling something Meg doesn’t quite catch. She sighs. “Just letting you know, your mom is gonna be home in five minutes.”

“Urhnggg, mkay.” comes Jo’s sleepy mumble. Meg knows that Jo probably wasn’t listening at all, but shrugs. _I tried._

She turns to glance in Jo’s mirror, which is now cracked in the bottom corner and runs a hand through her hair. Meg reaches into her bag and puts a fresh coat of lipstick on her lips. With a final grin, and glance around the room, Meg creeps out of the house, and sets off down the road.

A little ways down, Meg recognises Ellen Harvelle’s pickup truck, parked a few houses down. Ellen steps out, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. “Hey Meg,” she says, smile genuine, “How’ve you been?”

It’s a perfectly normal and polite question, but Meg knows what she really means. Still, she straightens slightly and grins widely before replying;

“Good thanks, Miss Harvelle. How was the hunting convention?”

Ellen smiles back. “Lovely, thank you. Glad to know you’re doing better!”

Meg’s smile stays plastered on her face. She doesn’t need Ellen’s pity. “Thanks, Miss Harvelle.” She says.

Ellen waves as Meg continues down the road, turning the corner and heading to the bus stop. As soon as her face is turned, Meg’s face sinks a little. She repeats in her head, like a mantra- _I did it, I gained half a kilo._ But somehow, that isn’t enough to cheer her up.

oOo

Dean rolls over in his sleep, and immediately feels someone’s flesh pressed against his. He cracks open an eye, and sighs in relief, recognising it as Jo. No matter how drunk he was, he wouldn’t sleep with Jo.

He shakes her a little, sitting up and glancing to the corner of the room at his brother, passed out on a bean bag. “Jo!” He calls, voice still thick with sleep.

“Go away Meg.” Jo mumbles, turning over.

“It’s Dean, you clown. What time does your mom get back?” he whispers.

Suddenly Jo bolts up from her bed, eyes wide open. “Shit!” She shouts, causing Sam to jolt awake from his slumber, barely being able to mumble, “What the fuck happened last night?” as a scream rips though the house.

“JOANNA BETH HARVELLE, YOU GET YOUR SORRY ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

And that’s how Dean finds himself, not for the first time, running down the street away from Jo’s house, only half-dressed, with Sam, Gabriel, Benny and Garth close behind. Ellen Harvelle is a scary woman, after all.

OOo

“So yeah, my mom want’s to murder me.” Jo says, picking at a bag of Doritos as she basks in the sunshine, sitting against a tree with her friends crouched around her. Gabriel laughs, until she shoots him one of her death glares and he swallows, nervously.

“Shit, was it really that bad?” Dean asks. The glare shifts to him.

“There was food, all over the kitchen. On the walls, on the floor. All the furniture in the living room was turned almost upside down, and there was fucking _spunk_ all over one of the couch cushions! Not to mention my room!” she snaps, screwing the empty bag up in her hands. Garth blushes.

“Yeah, that may have been me. Sorry?”

Jo tosses the packet, and it hits him on the forehead. “Bastard. What were you doing, anyway?”

Garth shrugs. “I dunno, I don’t really remember much. I took a load of pills before I even got to your house and started drinking. But I’m pretty sure there was some blonde chick, named Beth? Bess maybe?”

Jo screws her nose up. “Ew, that’s my cousin. She’s fifteen you pervert!”

Dean stiffens slightly, and Jo, being one of his oldest friends, notices immediately. “What?” she asks.

Dean shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Jo eyes him warily. She knows something’s been up with Dean recently but he won't let up what. He keeps skipping over her questions, before diverting to classic Winchester defensive mode. She rolls her eyes, “Okay. Nothing.” She repeats with a shrug, but their eyes stay locked.

Dean remains silent, but thankfully, they are all distracted by Gabriel, who is now grimacing and waving at something.

“Who are you, oh-” Sam doesn’t need to finish his sentence, as they all look over and see Abigail, standing at the edge of their college, waving and beckoning Gabriel over.

“Shit.” He whispers, through the gritted teeth of his grin towards her.

“What?” Benny asks. “I thought she was your new… whatever sick name you have for them.”

The group chuckle, but Gabriel ignores Benny’s comment, as he continues to wave. “Yeah she is, sort of. But I’ve gotta keep it on the low, so Anns doesn’t find out.”

“Wait, I thought you broke up with her?” Jo asks.

Gabriel shrugs. “I may have convinced her to take me back, no biggie.”

“Bastard.” Jo says, giving him a shove. “You can't play two girls feelings like that! Just pick one you like!”

Abigail must take the hint, and waves goodbye, walking away from the gate. Gabriel exhales in relief, before turning his gaze briefly back to Jo, and t hen to the ground as he begins to speak.

“It’s not like that. Anna’s nice, and so is Abigail and they’re both good lays but- I don’t _like_ them, not really. I like someone else.” He says with a shrug, playing with bits of grass between his fingers.

“Who?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows. This surprises him. In all the years he’s known the puny trickster, Dean knows that Gabriel does _not_ do serious relationships. He never has. Anything with a nice ass, gender not relevant is Gabriel’s love of his life, for the night.

“Doesn’t matter. Now, changing the subject, has anyone else seen fucking _Ruby_ staring over here for the past five minutes?”

They all look over, and Gabriel’s right. Ruby is standing with a girl named Lilith, both of them leaning against the brick wall of their school, glancing over to their group.

“What do you think they want?” Garth asks. Gabriel scoffs.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he says. Everyone shakes their heads and Gabriel groans. “They both have the hot’s for Sammy!”

Sam chokes on his water. “Wait, what?” he asks, water dribbling down his chin. Gabriel laughs. “Yeah, I know, I was shocked too. But I overheard them talking during Professor Anderson’s art lecture about how _dreamy_ you are, or some bull like that.”

Sam blushes. “No, I’m sure they were… talking about someone else.”

“Really? How many Sam Winchester’s do you think are in the local phonebook?”

Sam tosses the empty water bottle into the nearest trashcan, and glares at Gabriel. “Even if you’re right, it’s not like they're going to do anything about it an-” he glances up to the girls, who are no longer leaning against the wall. His hand darts out, panicked and he grabs Gabriel’s leg tightly. “Oh shit they’re coming this way!”

Dean laughs, standing up. “Good luck, little brother.” He says with a grin and a pat to Sam’s shoulder.

“Wait!” Sam calls, watching all of his friends begin to get up around hm. “Where are you going?”

“We don’t wanna cock-block you, _Sammy_.” Gabriel says, shooting him a sickly sweet smile. Gabriel laughs as Sam glares, watching his friends walk into the building.

“Fucking _shit_.” He mutters under his breath, and then flinches as he feels a hand on his shoulder. But this isn’t Dean’s hand. The touch is forceful, but lighter, the fingers long and nimble.

“Hey, Sam right?” A voice says. Sam stands and turns, and it met with Ruby. Sam can’t lie to himself and say Ruby isn’t attractive, because she _is_. She’s one of the hottest girls he knows, with long dark hair and wild dark eyes. He used to have probably the biggest crush on her in high school but… then when Ruby started hanging around with an older guy that they only knew as Crowley… things changed. Ruby hangs around with the wrong crowd, people Meg used to be friends with- before she got sick.

And he’s heard enough stories to warn him off girls like Ruby and Lilith for the rest of his life. “Hi Ruby.” He says, teeth clenched.

She smiles at him, eyes slowly raking up his tall body. “I was just, wondering actually- if you wanted to come to a party. Tonight?”

Sam shakes his head. “Nope, sorry. I’m busy tonight.”

Ruby laughs. “It’ll be fun. Promise.”

“I’m busy. Promise.” Sam retorts, mimicking her tone.

“I promise I'll show you a good time.” She says, fingers reaching out and stroking down his chest. Sam swallows, glaring it her. He knows she isn’t gonna leave him alone until he agrees.

“Sorry Ruby, but I like someone else.”

Her face drops. “Oh. Really? Who? Is it Meg? Filthy little bitch, oh Sammy- the stories I could tell you about Meg a-”

Sam’s own expression hardens. Meg is his friend, no matter how much of a bitch she is. “No. it’s not Meg. And she’s not a bitch.”

Ruby shrugs. “Fine, but still- if you do wanna come… party’s at the abandoned Sugar Factory, tonight at ten o’clock. Bring your friends. Bring your… _girlfriend”_

She reaches into his pocket, tucking in a white card, and then she leaves, and Sam exhales. There’s something about Ruby that just puts him on edge every time they speak. Her eyes are so dark, you can barely make out her pupils, yet still… she looks so- lost.

Sam is pulled out of his thoughts by hands, pushing down on his shoulders. He turns swiftly to see Gabriel, grinning at him, followed by the rest of his friends.

“So, how’d it go?” Gabriel asks, shooting Sam a knowing smile.

“I told her I wasn’t interested. She invited me- well, all of us- to a party, tonight, though”

“Really?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows. “Where?”

“Abandoned Sugar Mill down in the old district.” Sam says, shrugging his shoulders and reaching into his pocket for the card. “Look.”

He hands it to Dean, but Gabriel snatches it, reading through the details. “No way!” he exclaims.

“What?” Benny asks.

“This party, is one of _Crowley’s parties!_ ”

Benny, Garth, Jo and Dean all raise their eyebrows in surprise, but Sam remains confused. “So what? Crowley’s bad news, right?”

Gabriel nods. “Of course he is! Terrible, avoid him at all costs Sammy- but his _parties_ \- they’re _legendary!_ We have to go!”

Sam frowns. “I dunno, a party with Crowley’s crowd, in an abandoned Sugar Mill? Doesn’t really sound very… safe?”

Gabriel pouts. “Sam, you worry too much! I'll look after you, promise!” he says, adding a wink to the end that Sam has to try very hard not to think about for too long.

However, he still feels uncomfortable about the party. “I don’t know,” he says “Maybe we should ask Meg first, she used to hang around with them.” He glances around the field, searching for the blonde. “In fact- where is Meg? I haven’t seen her all day.”

“She’s at the clinic.” Jo says, shrugging. “It’s her final weigh-in before they can release her. She gained her half-kilo.”

And that makes Sam smile, a little to himself. “Oh. That’s good.” he says, voice quiet. “Still, I don’t know about this party.”

Dean groans. “Come _on,_ Sam, let’s just go! If it gets weird, we’ll leave, okay?”

Sam squirms a little, but nods. “Fine.” He says, and Gabriel claps. “But I’m still gonna text Meg. Now I gotta get to class.”

He leaves, walking away from the group, pulling out his phone.

oOo

_13:45_

_To: Meg_

_Subject:_

_Congrats on ur ½ kilo! You did great!_

**13:47**

**From: Meg**

**Subject:**

**Thanks Moose :)**

_13:48_

_To: Meg_

_Subject:_

_Cool. You coming back to college today?_

**13:49**

**From: Meg**

**Subject:**

**No, not today. Tomorrow, probably. Also, by the way, some guy at my counselling group called Ash Madison has your student ID card. He said something about severing your balls.**

_13:51_

_To: Meg_

_Subject:_

_Oh, Shit... I was wondering where that went. :(_

_I'll sort it out, don’t worry. Anyway, I got invited to a party today- one of Crowley’s parties with the gang by Ruby. It’s tonight, in the old Sugar Mill. Do you think we should go?_

He receives no reply, and twenty minutes later- he realises he hasn’t listened to a single thing the professor has been saying, because he’s been staring at his phone. He shrugs, before turning it off and slipping it into his bag. So he’ll go to the party. _What’s the worst that could happen?_

_OOo_

Sam feels uneasy the moment he steps in the warehouse. Dean and Gabriel flanked on either side of him, Garth, Benny and Jo not far behind. The party looks amazing, of course. He expected it to, but _this,_ is _amazing_. There are lights flashing in every colour, every direction. People are dancing, in every available space, drinks in hands, passing around pills and joints and all sorts of things he can’t even name.

“Whoa.” Gabriel says, looking around in awe, golden eyes as wide as saucers. “This. Is. Fucking. _Awesome._ ”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam says. But he still feels uneasy. He can feel eyes on him, but as he scans the warehouse, he doesn’t know where from. He turns to his brother.

“You okay Dean?” he asks, but Dean doesn’t reply. His eyes are fixed on something in the crowd that Sam can’t quite see.

Sam doesn’t know that he’s looking at _her._ _Castielle._ She’s here, and Dean’s not sure why he’s surprised. Of course she’s here. She’s dressed in mostly black, a tight dress that barely skims the tops of her thin white thighs, and the same thick soled trainers she wore the day they- well.

She catches his gaze from across the room, and smirks, before turning back to whoever it is she’s talking to. It’s a boy- well, a _man._ He doesn’t look _old,_ in fact, he’s probably not that much older than them but- there’s something in the way he dresses- sharp suited, and the way he swirls a glass of something brown in is hand, and passes Castielle a clear, plastic bag. A clear, plastic bag of pills.

Then he reaches out, stroking his large fingers over her pale face, dragging his thumb over her lip. He leans in close, and whispers something in her ear, and she smiles. And it makes Dean feel sick.

He must have been staring for a while, because suddenly Gabriel’s voice is in his ear, over the pounding music. “Oh look! Cassie is here! I forgot she still worked for Crowley!”

This is enough to pull Dean out of his trance. “What do you mean, she _works_ for Crowley?” he asks, screwing his face up.

Gabriel shrugs. “I don’t know. He supplies her, drugs and stuff. She sells it, at parties and things. They split the earnings.”

“And you just _let her_ do that?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, I do actually. I trust Cas. She can take care of herself.” Gabriel says. And there's something in the way that he stands a little taller, eyes a little harder that almost makes Dean flinch. Almost.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything else, before he notices she’s gone. She's on the move, and he scans the room desperately. But there’s no need, because suddenly there she is, right next to him, a black tray in one hand, small blue shots balancing on the top, and the bag in her other hand.

“Cassie!” Gabriel shouts, giving her a hug, carefully, as not to spill anything. And she grins, handing them all glass.

“Here,” she says. And _God Dammit_ how could Dean have missed just the sound of her _voice_? “Compliments of the boss.”

Everyone takes a shot, including herself and they all drink on three. But Castielle and Dean don’t break eye contact. Gabriel shakes his head after swallowing, hair flying about, and Sam coughs, chocking only slightly. “Oh yeah! That woke me up!” Gabriel says, grinning.

Castielle smiles back, but it’s a little more understated than her brother. She grips the bag, holding it up to them, displaying the little circular white pills. “Also, I’ve got these. Keep in mind they’re _not_ free. Four bucks a pill.”

Gabriel groans. “Come on, what about the friends and family discount?”

She chuckles lightly. “That _is_ the friends and family discount, now are you buying or what?”

Grumbling, Gabriel pulls ten dollars out of his wallet, and Cas gives him two pills. “Keep the change.” He mumbles, swallowing one right away. He hands the other towards Sam, just as Benny slaps down a twenty and Cas fishes him out five.

Sam shakes his head. “Whoa, no thanks.” He says, waving his hand slightly.

“Come _on_ Sammy!” Gabriel whines, holding the pill closer to his face. “Have fun, for once!”

Sam groans, but takes the pill from Gabriel, biting it in half with his teeth, and after throwing his head back to swallow it, he takes the other half out, and offers it to Dean.

Dean shakes his head. “No thanks man.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Come on, I took it! Why can’t you?”

Dean turns, and notices that Cas is gone, disappeared in the crowd. Slightly reluctant, he takes the half and shoves it in his pocket. “For later.” He explains. He’s gonna have to get _real_ wasted tonight if he’s gonna be able to bring himself to sleep with anyone that isn’t _her._

Gabriel grins, swaying slightly. “That’s my boy, Dean-o!” he says, patting Dean hard on the shoulder. Then, he grabs Sam’s wrist and Dean can faintly hear him mumbling something about drinks as he drags Sam away through the crowd.

Jo and Benny head off to dance in the corner, leaving him standing next to Garth. “Hey man,” he says, turning slightly to acknowledge the boy. His eyes continue to scan the crowd for her, but he spares a glance to Garth, who’s eyes are already swimming. He had forgotten how easy it was for Garth to get drunk.

“Wow. The lights Dean!” he says with a hiccup, sticking his hand in front of his face. “So pretty.” He mumbles, before staggering off in a different direction. Dean rolls his eyes. _Idiot._

He steps a little further into the crowd, trying his best to remain nonchalant as he glances around.

_Where would she be, where would she be, where would she-_

He spots her, in the corner. She’s grinning, but the smile doesn’t quite meet her eyes. A spotlight skips over her face briefly, lighting up her face. She’s talking to someone he can’t quite recognise, leaning against the wall. His hair is blonde and his eyes a clear, almost icy blue.

His hands are on her, on her back, to her waist, moving further and further southwards. He’s talking, and smiling. She’s nodding, but she isn’t laughing, not like she should be.

He steps forwards, because suddenly, he feels like he _needs_ to get over there, and this guy- needs to get _off_ her, because she’s _his._

And then she tiptoes up and kisses him.

And Dean can’t quite believe it. They kiss for what feels like years, decades even- until they release. Now both his hands are on her, and they’ve flipped, her resting against the wall, his body pressing into hers, thumbs grazing over her hipbones, covering all the same places that Dean had.

Her eyes flick up, meeting Dean’s from across the room as the blonde stranger’s mouth moves to her neck, no doubt leaving marks. Dean is outraged, because _he_ should be the one leaving those marks on her. She is _his._

Her eyes remain locked with his for a second longer, and she smiles, softly. But somehow she still looks sad. He doesn’t stop staring at her face until she arches up into the strangers touch, their mouths connecting again. And        Dean turns around because he can’t quite stand to watch anymore.

So he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the pill. He tilts his head back, dropping it in and picking up a shot of something clear to wash it down. It burns his throat and his chest, but he doesn’t care. He needs to feel something, _anything_ else than _her,_ breaking his heart.

He grabs another shot, and knocks it back. He needs to get _really fucking wasted._

oOo

Sam can feel eyes on him, and it makes him uneasy. He’s high, but this is more than just paranoia. Gabriel is long gone, a bad mix of pills and alcohol has left him with an overbearing sense of self confidence. He’s gone to ‘get laid’, apparently.

Sam hasn’t touched another drink since the beginning of the party. The pill’s buzz still hasn’t completely worn out, despite the hours it’s been- but he still hasn’t drank anything. Nothing looks safe.

He turns, suddenly, hearing a bang as the front door swings open. Hardly anyone notices- they’re all too drunk to care. The music keeps playing, the drinks keep flowing and the lights keep shining. They’ll dance until they’re dead, Sam reckons.

But not him.

He can see him. Ash. Sam swallows. He needs Gabriel, really, and he needs him right _fucking_ now, because Gabriel is probably the only person who could talk someone out of severing his balls.

And if that fails, Gabriel’s balls could get severed too.

Sam swallows, eyes flitting around the room, desperate for an exit- any means of escape… but the walls are high, and solid, the roof tin. There are no windows.

Suddenly, a hand touches Sam on his shoulder. He turns, confused, and is met with the face of a man he only knows as-

_“Crowley?”_

“Hello. Sam. Or should I call you, _moose?”_

Sam visibly flinches. _Moose_ is a nickname he’s had since childhood, really, on account of his large presence and long hair. Gabriel teases him by calling him moose, but the person who actually started it is-

Sam swallows. Oh. _Meg._

He needs to get away from Crowley. The man is bad news, and he knows it- but Sam also knows that if he makes a scene, Ash will notice him straight away. He glances to the doors, eyes fixed on Ash as he scans the room.

“Dealer trouble?” Crowley asks, a slight smirk playing on his face as he sips from his glass.

“Uh, sort of- yeah.” Sam says, not meeting his eyes.

“How about I help you, with that?”

This makes Sam still. He turns to Crowley, confused. “What do you mean, help me? Why would you of all people, help _me?_ ”

“What can I say Moose. I like you,” Crowley replies with a shrug. “You seem like a bright kid. And Ash- well, he’s been a pain in my backside for as long as I can remember.”

Sam is wary, of course, but- Crowley seems genuine in his offer. Crowley isn’t a good guy- nowhere near so- but, Sam is smart enough to know that having him on his side could be very… beneficial.

“And what could you do about- my uh, dealer problem?” he asks, trying to remain causal. However, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, straight as arrows, as Crowley moves closer, hot breath at his neck and in his ear.

“How about, we make a deal?” he whispers.

Sam shudders slightly, but Crowley continues, obviously unaware as to his discomfort.

 “I'll get rid of Ash,” he explains “My boys can take care of that. But you’ll owe me.” Noticing Sam’s wary expression, Crowley is quick to add “Oh, don’t look so panicked Moose! Don’t worry- I won't make you kill anyone, or anything ridiculous like that. You’ll just… _owe me._ Okay?”

And Sam doesn’t know if it’s his heart rate dangerously building as moves closer through the crowd, or the pills in his system or the lights and the music or the smell of sweat and alcohol- but his pupils dilate, and he turns to Crowley.

“Yes.”

Crowley waves a hand, and two guys that Sam don’t know, immediately hone in on Ash. One presses a cloth to his face, and Ash goes limp.

“Uh, thanks- I guess.” Sam says, beginning to walk away.

“No problem.” Crowley says, waving slightly. “But remember- Sam. You owe me.”

Sam nods. “Yeah.” he swallows. “I owe you.”


	3. Garth, Dean, Cas and Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garth's mom leaves a note, saying she'll be out of town for a few days. She also leaves one thousand dollars. So naturally, Garth spends it all so he can get fucking wasted.

_ One Week Later _

Garth’s alarm blares at seven thirty AM, and his eyes are immediately unresponsive. He tries to force them open, eyebrows furrowing-but his body parts refuse to co-operate. Rolling over, he groans and blindly reaches towards his desk for what he hopes is a glass of water, grasping it into his hand.

He sends out a little prayer, before he is hit directly in the face with something lukewarm and sticky that defiantly is not water.

Scrambling out of bed, Garth runs with his eyes still firmly squeezed shut in the direction of the bathroom, arms out in front of him to feel his way through his own house. “MOM, DON’T COME UPSTAIRS!” he shouts, bare feet padding against the floor.

He’s definitely naked.

He quickly finds his way into his bathroom, climbing into the shower and turning the rusty tap. The water begins to spurt out, freezing cold- causing Garth to jump back against the cold tile floor. He rubs his eyes furiously as the water begins to turn warmer, sighing in relief as the burning sensation fades.

 _Thank fuck._ He thinks to himself, running a hand through his now wet hair. He quickly washes himself, before stepping out of the small shower and stretching in front of the mirror. Garth isn’t usually much of a morning person, but a quick shower usually wakes him up.

He shoots a goofy smile towards the mirror, before reaching into the cabinet and spraying on some deodorant.

Body now dry, he pads back towards his bedroom, opening the door. He is not all that prepared for what he sees.

His bedroom is _trashed._ His goldfish is _dead_ and the water in the tank a peculiar shade of brown. As he pulls on a red t-shirt over his head and he sighs, rubbing a hand through his damp hair. He reaches for his phone on his bedside as he wobbles, trying to pull on a pair of jeans.

He scrolls through his phone, desperately trying to re-collect any lost memories of the night previous. He notices several texts in his inbox to and from _Jo,_ and groans, reading through them.

23:34

To: Joanna Beth

Subject:

JOOOOOOOOOOOO U HACVE TO COMME T MYU HOUS RIHT NOW

23:35

To: Garth

Subject:

What the fuck? Are you high?

23:40

To: Joanna Beth

Subject:

SORRRY I LOSTT MY PHON. IS OK IF I GICE GOLDFUSH ESTACY

23:43

To: Garth

Subject:

Stop texting me, assclown.

23:46

To: Joanna Beth

Subject:

JO PLEASH O NEED UR HALP

23:47

JO PLEEEAEASSSEEE

23:49

JO?

23:57

GOLDFUSJH HASD STOPED SWIMMING

23:59

IS HE SLEPING

00:17

To: Garth

Subject:

Stop fucking calling me. Go to sleep.

Sighing, Garth quickly dials Jo’s number as he sashays out of the room. His mom is probably downstairs, wondering what all the banging around was about, and he mentally prepares himself for her oncoming slew of insults, and he classic “I’m just _so_ disappointed?” if she had had any idea of his own personal pill-bender the night previous.

Jo answers on the third ring.

“Hey asshat. Sobered up, I assume?”

Garth groans, jogging down the stairs. “Don’t even start. My goldfish fucking died.”

Jo laughs as he makes his way through the corridor, peeking into the empty living room. _Where is she?_ He wonders.

“Yeah well I’m not fucking surprised. Where did you get ecstasy from anyway? You didn't go to Ash, did you?”

“No, of course not- I’m not an idiot. I borrowed from Benny’s secret supply. But don’t tell him.” Garth says, walking into the empty kitchen. There is a white envelope sitting on the counter, next to a scrap of lined paper. He can vaguely hear Jo scolding him on the other end of the line, but he isn’t listening as he reads;

_Garth, gone away for a few days. – mom._

“What the fuck.” He whispers, reaching for the envelope. It feels light, but he shrugs pulling it open.

Then his phone goes crashing to the ground. Because the envelope is _full_ of fucking money. “Holy shit… HOLY SHIT!”he exclaims, scrambling to grab his phone from the floor.

“Garth, what the fuck?”

“Fuck. Fuck- Jo, Jo, you there?”

“Yeah I’m here, what the fuck is with you?” she asks.

“Holyfuckingshit.” He breaths, leafing through the notes with his fingers. “Get here. Right now.”

“Are you still high?”

“No! Just get here, bring everyone!”

He presses “end call” before Jo can protest (and he knows she would) pouring the money out of the envelope, throwing it into the air, before watching the green bills float through towards the ground around him. Garth grins.

oOo

“Holy _shit_!” Gabriel says, thumbing through the notes which Garth has cleverly arranged back into the envelope. Apparently, ‘making it rain’ does have _some_ disadvantages, as it took him twenty minuets to find it all.

Still, he grins. “I fucking know right. My mom is the best.” He says, rocking back on his chair.

Then he notices a worried glance pass between Jo and Sam, like the fucking killjoy’s they are. “What?” he asks with a groan.

Jo grimaces. “I-I dunno buddy, it just- seems kinda weird, you know?”

“No. I don’t know.” He says, sitting up. “What I do know, however, is that there is gonna be a fucking kick ass party, right here, tonight.”

“Yes buddy!” Gabriel shouts, patting Garth on the back firmly. “That’s what I wanna hear!” he grins.

“Garth- did your mom say where she was going, or anything?” Sam asks.

Garth shakes his head, and shrugs. “Does it really matter, though? She’ll be back. She always comes back.”

A tense moment of silence passes, along with several worried glances towards Garth and between the others, before Garth stands up, pushing the table a little away from him. “Fuck all you guys- let’s just have a massive fucking party and get really fucking high, okay? That’s all I want.”

“Okay.” Dean says, speaking for the first time since they all arrived. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet for weeks, but surprises everyone by standing up- shooting his classic Winchester grin and announcing, “Let’s all just get really fucking high and maybe get laid!”

Garth grins, running behind Dean and hugging him round the neck (even if he does have to tiptoe- Dean appreciates the gesture) and says “Yeah! Let’s have a fucking party! Tonight, eight pm!”

And then, with the envelope clasped tightly in Garth’s pale fist, Dean and Garth walk out the kitchen, leaving the others behind them. “Have fun in class, assholes!” Dean calls, as the sound of the front door closing rings through the room.

“Well, that could’ve gone fucking better.” Meg says, eyeing the other three remaining in the room as she stands. “See you schmucks in class.”

oOo

Sam and Gabriel sit on the grass outside their college, Gabriel leaning against the tree. Sam keeps finding himself in these types of situations where everyone else is either busy or in class or somewhere else and it’s just the two of them.

“You okay Sammy?” Gabe asks. Sam rolls his eyes.

“I told you not to call me that.” He chides.

Gabriel shrugs. “Yeah, but I still will.” He pauses. “You are- okay, though, right?”

Sam looks down at the grass, running a few strands through with his long fingers. “Yeah, uh- I am but… you know.” He shrugs. He can feel Gabriel’s golden eyes bearing into his head with a fierce intensity level that could probably rival the sun’s. He hears Gabriel tut, and looks up.

“Come on moose. You can't lie to me, not really.” He says with a shake of his head, his tone light and playful. But then his voice changes, it’s softer somehow, more worried as Sam finally meets his eye, and Gabriel asks “Is it John?”

Sam nods. “Yeah. it is. It always somehow comes back to him.”

Gabriel sighs, leaning forwards and placing his hand on Sam’s shoulder. He has to shift slightly closer in the grass, because his arms are a little too short, and it’s more than a little awkward- but Sam doesn’t say anything. For a second, he almost smiles.

“How is he?” Gabriel asks, and suddenly Sam’s pulled out of the spot moment of bliss and bombarded with images of his father, everywhere. John passed out on the floor when he gets home, John stumbling into the house- drunk off his ass whist Sam’s trying to study. Sam can barely believe he managed to graduate high school and get into college a year early. It’s even more unbelievable that Dean managed to graduate at all.

And all for what? The crappy community college, twenty minutes away from where they live, and a deadbeat dad who doesn’t even care? In reality, Sam only wants to stay and complete his pre-law course and then try his luck at Stanford, or maybe Yale or even Harvard- but his dad is making his ambition look more and more like a dream every day.

“He’s- you know. The same as he’s always been Gabe. Ever since mom died. He drinks, he shouts- sometimes he cries. At night, you know? He has nightmares- mostly about her. He talks about her a lot more as well and I- I just can’t help but feel like there’s something he’s not telling us about-” he breathes, shaking his head.  “And that he’ll die before he even gets a chance to tell us.”

Gabriel sighs, and moves even closer to Sam. Their legs intertwine slightly, and Gabriel’s free hands sneaks through the grass, resting over Sam’s. nobody else can really see the small gesture, because it’s covered by the shadows of their bodies but- Sam can feel it. And it feels _right_.

“Have you spoken to Dean, at all?” Gabriel asks.

Sam snorts. “Dean? Have you seen Dean lately? He doesn’t know where he’s going- there’s something wrong with my brother, and he won't tell me. And it’s been ever since that day we all skipped college and you made me buy drugs from Ash. Something happened to him.” Sam shakes his head slightly, thinking of his brother. “And even still, it’d be no use. When it comes to dad, Dean’s deluded- he’d jump off a bridge if he thought it was what dad wanted. And- I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to leave next year when I’m eighteen and go to Stanford, knowing that I’m leaving Dean behind.”

Gabriel stiffens, “Wait- you’re leaving?” he asks.

Sam shrugs. “I want to- I only take pre-law here, but I wanna go to Stanford when I turn eighteen, or maybe one of the other big colleges. I can’t spend the rest of my life here Gabriel- not really.”

Gabriel swallows as Sam’s head raises, the brown eyes locking with golden. A moment passes, maybe a little too long for ‘just friends’ before eventually, Gabriel sighs, moving both his hands away slowly. Sam’s breath catches slightly at the lack of contact. He almost misses it- a feeling which retracts back to the corners of his mind.

Gabriel stands, and Sam’s eyes follow him. Gabriel suddenly appears a lot smaller than Sam remembers, his shoulders slightly slouched, hands in his pockets. “Okay.” He says with a nod. “Good luck Sam, God knows out of all of us- you deserve to be happy the most.”

And then he turns and leaves, and Sam can do nothing more than watch his short figure slink away, until he blends in with a group of students.

OoO

21:49

To: Dean

Subject:

_meet me in the alley by the side of Bess’ Diner_

_-Cas._

Dean stands in the gritty alleyway, back slunk against the wall. He knows that he shouldn’t have come- not really. He turns his head, watching the sun just begin to set. He exasperates, and watches his breath float in the air in a foggy white cloud.

He shouldn’t have come.

And he knows it. She’s dangerous, and just the thought of her is sending too many thoughts through his mind. Things that he knows he shouldn’t be thinking of her, things that involve a crappy Gas station bathroom and her pale skin pushed against white tiles and her black underwear.

His racing mind comes to an immediate halt when he hears the flick of a lighter behind him. He turns.

“Hey.” She says, smoke flowing out of her mouth as she speaks. Dean’s eyes slowly rake her up and down. Thin, white limbs poking out of the bottom of a frayed pair of dark denim shorts, a cropped black tank top, long black socks and bright red converse. He grins when he gets to the shoes. They make her look young, like she’s supposed to look.

But she doesn’t look her age, as she leans against the wall, inhaling another bout of fumes from her cigarette. Dean smirks.

“Careful,” he says “that stuff’ll kill you.”

Her eyes glance to him, bright white in contrast to the quickly darkening avenue. He doesn’t break contact with her, his own green eyes sparking, challenging.

She pulls another cigarette out of her back pocket, and places it in her mouth, smirking. She reaches her silver zippo up to light it, but he beats her to it, reaching forwards and pulling it out her mouth. “Believe it or not, Jailbait- I like having you around. Wouldn’t want to lose you.” He says, tucking the cigarette into the corner of his own mouth.

It comes out sappier and more meaningfully than he plans, and a slight blush raises on his cheeks as he pulls a box of matches out of his pocket. He strikes one, lighting the cigarette, before throwing the match onto the ground into a puddle. The sun had almost completely set now, and the alley dissolves into shadows.

The two stay silent for a while, blowing smoke through the air. He finds himself captivated just watching her, watching him. Her blue eyes gleaming in the evening air, slight smirk still visible on her pretty pink lips. A cold wind blows past them for a fraction of a second, and Dean shivers slightly in his brown leather jacket. She doesn’t flinch.

“Christ,” he asks. “Do you never get cold?”

She laughs slightly. “I’m always cold.”

Then there’s a beat.

Dean sighs, sticking his cigarette back into his mouth and shrugging out of the jacket his father gave him, he holds it out to her. For a second, something that looks like shock or surprise passes on her face, which is odd- because he’s never seen her be caught off guard. She's always one step ahead of the game, that’s how she plays but- she looks genuinely surprised for a moment, reaching out to accept Dean’s jacket, wrapping it round her bony frame. He can’t help but think that it suits her, more than it ever suited his dad. More than it ever suited him. “Thanks.” She mumbles, tossing the cigarette to the floor.

“Why’d you call me here?” he asks.

She shrugs. “I just wanted to see you.”

He snorts. “Really? Because, you didn't exactly look like you were missing me much at Crowley’s.” He doesn’t mean for it to sound so bitter, and spiteful, but he doesn’t regret it.

She looks down, eyes focused to the floor. “Yeah.” she mumbles.

“That guy,” Dean asks. “Who is he?”

“Does it matter?” Cas asks. “He’s not you.”

Dean swallows. “Yeah. And that sucks.”

Castielle remains silent, but drags her eyes back up to Dean’s own emeralds, which shine through the darkness. “It sucks, because I really, _really_ like you.”

“I know.” She whispers. And she can feel the tears, brimming in her eyes, blurring her vision slightly as Dean steps forwards, foot making a light splashing sound in a puddle. She tenses as his body covers hers, and her eyes shut tight, expecting the shouting and the violence and the verbal abuse. She wants him to get angry, call her a whore and a slut and a tease, just like she’s been called a thousand times before.

But he doesn’t, because he’s Dean Winchester.

Instead, Dean just cups her face gently, and lean’s forwards, low voice whispering “Why are you with him, Cas? Why are you with him and not with me?”

And Cas doesn’t even know the answer to that, so she does the only thing she knows how. She tiptoes up, arching her back slightly, until their foreheads are pressed together. Slowly, shaking, his hands lower down to her hips, and he tilts his head to kiss her. She begins to tilt towards him too, before her breath hitches.

Because even she has a sense of right and wrong.

“No.” she whispers, turning her head to the side. And Dean backs away. Because he’s Dean Winchester, and he’s always gonna do the right thing. She’s not sure why she likes him so much, when he’s so far from her normal type. Being manhandled, letting boys and men alike have their way with her for fun, for themselves. It’s all she knows. But not Dean.

“Okay.” He says, shaking his head slightly and stepping back. “Okay. See you around, Castielle.”

And then he turns through the alleyway and leaves. And this time, she doesn’t call him back, she just leans against the cool bricks, wraps herself a little tighter in his jacket, and pulls a cigarette out of her pocket. She places it into her mouth, and moves to light it- but then she remembers the exact shade of green dean’s eyes are and sighs, leaning her head back against the brick. She takes the cigarette, rolling it between her fingers, before throwing it into the puddle opposite, turning her back, and walking away.

oOo

Garth’s party is a wave of chaos and madness, and that’s when Dean has only just arrived. After Cas, after the alley he needed to clear his head. So Dean did what he always does. He got into his car, turned to volume on one of his tapes up to maximum, and wasted a load of his dad’s gas. Not that the eldest Winchester was ever anywhere near sober enough to drive the car. Dean had taken to hiding the keys upstairs in his room, after his father had crashed the antique into a lamppost. Dean paid for the repairs.

It’s barely eleven thirty, but apparently a lot more people got Garth’s memo than officially planned. The house is so full of people, Dean can barely make it through the corridor when Garth runs into him, pupils blown impossibly wide.

“Dean!” he shouts, lurching forwards and wrapping his bony arms around Dean’s waist. Laughing, Dean pats his friend on the back. “Garth, buddy- I can see you’re, uh, having a good time.”

“Yes!” Garth exclaims, retracting back slightly, a dopey grin hanging off his face. “This-this is the best night o’my life! B-but where did you gooooo, _Deeeaaaann_ , earlier, after we set up the new sssound system? You left! You left me- dean!” he hiccups.

Dean smiles, shaking his head. “Sorry buddy. I had to go meet someone.” He knows Garth, sober or otherwise, is probably going to have a few questions about Dean’s earlier disappearance, but he’s also probably way too drunk and/or high right now to be too curious.

“Oh okay.” Garth slurs, wobbling slightly, knuckles turning white as he grips onto Dean’s shoulder. He leans forwards, head resting near Dean’s ear. “But stay _away_ from the fifteen year olds- trust me. More trouble than it’s worth.”

Dean stiffens, swallowing nervously as Garth wobbles away from him towards the kitchen. Did he? Could he? Dean shakes his head, trying to psych himself out. Garth’s just being drunk, and stupid. Right?

And then he remembers Garth’s story about Jo’s cousin Beth- or was it Bess?. And his stomach unties itself. Garth doesn’t know. Nobody knows. Except for her.

oOo

It doesn’t take him long to find the petite figure of Gabriel, hovering around Garth’s trashed living room, talking to Sam. The two of them are so wrapped up in their own little bubble, that they don’t even notice Dean approach. The elder Winchester shakes his head, because Gabriel and Sam are always wrapped up in each other, and everyone seems to notice but them.

Dean clears his throat, and the two are suddenly aware of his presence, his brother actually jumping. “Oh,” Sam says, beer in hand. “Hey Dean.”

Dean smiles. “Hey man. And Gabe.” He adds on, grinning.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Shut it, Winchester.”

Dean shrugs, laughing- “Hey, you know what they say, good things come in small packages?”

Gabriel snorts. “Trust me Dean, there is _nothing_ small about _my_ package.”

Sam chokes on his beer, and the three of them dissolve into a little huddle of laughter. Dean laughs with his eyes squeezed shut, as Gabriel says. “Speaking of small things, hey Cassie.”

And Dean stops laughing. Because she’s _here._ Of course, she is.

She doesn’t say anything, just smiles politely at Gabriel and Sam as she passes them. Her blue eyes flit to Dean briefly, and it looks like there’s so much she _wants_ to say but- something else passes into view.

“Hey, _Cas”_ a voice says. It’s a man, probably only a little older than Dean himself, with sandy blonde hair, and eyes so icy blue they’re almost clear. And Cas smiles up at him, this guy, and he grins back.

Dean feels someone move and stand beside him, as the couple walk off together, migrating to the other end of the room. “Of course,” Meg says, her voice barely a murmur, and only Dean can hear. Dean turns, shooting her a questioning glance, but her eyes don’t move from Castielle And the man. “Of course it would be Lucifer.”

“What- who?” Dean asks, but Meg moves past him, turning and heading to another part of the house. Dean wants to chase her, get any information he possibly can about this guy but-

It’s too late. Meg’s already gone.

“Uh Gabriel,” he asks, moving back to the trickster and Sam. “Who’s that guy that she’s with?”

Gabriel shrugs. “Cas’ new flavour of the month, I guess. Lucifer, he calls himself.”

Sam frowns. “Lucifer? A bit- uh, odd? Right?”

Gabriel shrugs. “I don’t really know him but- I dunno,” he tilts his head slightly, watching the couple across the room. “I feel like I have seen him- somewhere before.”

The three of them look over, studying Lucifer curiously. He seems like a completely normal guy, talking with his friends, laughing and getting drinks. But every time he touches her, Dean flinches, blood boiling.

Their view of the couple is blocked by a girl, stepping in front of the group. Her skin is pale and her hair a wild fiery red colour. She’d probably be Dean’s type, and Sam is half expecting her to be one of Dean’s past conquests.

But she surprises them all, by grinning and stepping towards Gabriel, kissing him square on the mouth. And Sam drops his bottle of beer to the floor, it smashing against his shoes, causing them all to flinch.

“Butterfingers much?” Gabriel comments, smirking as he throws an arm around the girls shoulder. “Guys, this is my girlfriend- Anna.”

“Hi.” She says, “Nice to meet you-”

“Oh- you’re, you’re Anna – of course,” Sam says, stumbling over his words, trying to force out a smile. He holds his hand towards her, smiling as she shakes it. “Nice to meet you. Glad you and Gabriel, uh, sorted things out.”

She goes quiet for a moment, glancing to the floor, before she looks back up at Sam, smiling. “Yeah, uh- we did.”

She glances to Gabriel, who grins, before moving his hands down to her waist. “Come on babe, let’s go upstairs.” He says, pressing his hips into her, walking the two of them forwards. She just laughs slightly, saying something too quiet for Sam to hear, but just by the way Gabriel grins- Sam feels sick.

“Don’t wait up!” Gabriel calls, walking out the room.

“So,” Sam breathes, turning to his brother. His fingers are fidgeting with the hem of his plaid shirt, and he can't quite escape the feeling of- inadequacy? Betrayal? But Sam knows that it’s wrong, because Gabriel was never his to begin with. “Gabriel’s girlfriend.”

But Dean doesn’t reply. His eyes are hard, and slightly red. If it hadn’t been for Dean’s odd behaviour as of recent, Sam would probably just assume his brother was high- or something, but now- he eyes Dean oddly, trying to follow his gaze.

He’s about to ask, when Jo appears beside them, followed by a concerned looking Benny. “Hey guys,” she says, a little breathy. “We have a- uh-” but then she stops, something catching her eye on the other side of the room.

Sam can almost swear he hears her whisper, “No,” under her breath, before she turns, blonde hair fanning around her, eyes darting towards the exit. “I have to go.” She says. “i- uh, I forgot I had something to do.”

And then she bolts.

It’s almost as if she’s afraid, but she’s not-right? Because Sam has known Jo since the day he could walk- and she's not afraid of anything.

Benny protests, trying to call her back but she’s already long gone, the door closing with a click. “What the hell was that?” Dean asks, trying to search through the crowd for whatever Jo had seen. But he can’t not be drawn to Castielle and Lucifer, talking and laughing and drinking and kissing in the background. And sometimes, every now and then- she’ll glance over to him, to Dean, before quickly looking away again. She does it so quickly that Dean questions each time, if it was even real.

“Guys, I don’t know what happened to Jo but- we’ve got a problem. Upstairs.”

oOo

Benny, Dean and Sam take turns pushing against Garth’s mom’s bedroom door, trying to will whatever object Garth has pushed in front of it to move. Gabriel quickly joins them, strolling out of Garth’s room, Anna not far behind.

“What’s going on?” she asks, running a hand through her dishevelled hair. Sam notices several fresh hickeys blooming on the side of her neck, and for a moment, he can only see red.

“None of your business!” he snaps, shocking everyone including himself. But he plays it out, ignoring the questioning glances shot by his friends. “It’s a personal thing- that’s all.”

“Oh,” her voice is quiet. “Okay. Fine.” She glances to Gabriel as she walks towards the stairs, but he just nods at her. “I'll see you later.” He says, before turning back to the door.

It only takes another push or two, and they're inside, dresser tipped over. But the drawers are empty.

“Garth, talk to me buddy, where are you?” Benny calls, eyes scanning the room. The door of the wardrobe is slightly crooked, and Dean walks over, pressing his ear to the wood. He can hear hitched breaths inside, and looks towards Sam, nodding his head to the wardrobe.

“Garth?” he calls, softly.

He is met with silence, so he sighs, gripping the golden handle, and pulling the wardrobe open. Except for the bony figure of Garth, knees wrapped to his chest, the wardrobe is empty inside. He looks so small wrapped up into himself like a scared child.

“She-she wouldn’t have taken all of her stuff if it was just going to be a few days, would she?” Garth asks, voice shaky as he slowly raises his head, cheeks red and blotchy with tear tracks.

“Goddammit.” Dean murmurs under his breath, before shaking his head. Deep down, he knew this would happen. And so did the others. “I’m sorry man. I’m so sorry.” He sighs.

Garth clambers out of the wardrobe, hiccupping slightly as he moves towards Dean. This time, Dean moves to hug his friend, muscular arms wrapping around Garths slim figure. “I’m sorry.” He whispers.

Garth hangs his head onto Dean’s shouter, eyes screwed tightly. “I shouldn’t have spent all that money.” He mumbles.

“You spent _all_ of it?” Dean asks, eyebrows raised as he releases him.

Garth nods. “I bought a lot of drugs.” He sniffs. “Downstairs, in bowls like candy.” He adds, with a breathy laugh. “I thought it would look classy.”

Dean laughs, and the other guys join in, moving closer to Garth, who just whimpers slightly. “Where am I gonna live, what am I gonna do?” he asks, eyes wide with sudden panic, hands balling into fists.

“Don’t worry about that.” Benny says with a smile, placing a large hand on Garth’s back. “We’ll worry about that later. For now, let’s just- let’s get really fucking wasted.”

“Yeah,” Garth says with a teary grin, looking between his four friends. He nods. “Let’s get really fucking wasted.”


	4. Sam, Dean, John, Cas and Crowley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something awful happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of rape in this chapter (nothing explicit)

_ 12 days later _

A bang wakes Sam from his sleep. A hefty thud on the floor downstairs. Sam has never been much of a heavy sleeper, and groans, glancing to the clock. 8:15 Am.

He sighs, better early than late, right?

He stands, running a hand through his hair that Dean always teases him about. And yeah, maybe it is long, but Sam likes it. He stretches, groaning slightly, before padding out to the hallway.

There’s another bang, and a faint strangled call of “Boys!”

And Sam sighs, because his dad must be home. Dean’s bedroom door, which is just across from his creaks open, and the dishevelled Winchester steps out, gleaming green eyes narrowed and cloudy.

“What the-” he mumbles, before he’s cut off by another bang, and a cry.

Sam sniffs, before saying “Dad’s home.”

“Fucking finally.” Dean grumbles, heading towards the stairs. “Yeah, okay Dad! We’re coming!” he calls.

He moves quickly down the stairs, and Sam can hear him as he approaches his father, lifting him into a chair. Sam shakes his head and sighs, before padding down the stairs himself.

His father is a wreck, but that’s nothing new, as he slouches in the faded grey armchair. His hair is wet and greasy, probably from the stormy weather, the hair on his face way past stubble. His eyes are limp and grey, their natural glowing brown hue lost.

Dean walks in from the kitchen, a damp cloth in hand. He bends down to his knees beside his father, wiping gently across his face. “Wh-what?” John mumbles, trying to turn away.

“It’s okay dad, it’s just me- Dean.”

“Mmph, fuck off.” John slurs, pushing Dean away from him. John may be a bitter old drunk, but he's strong, and Dean stumbles slightly, before standing up and moving back to stand by Sam.

“Just leave him Dean,” Sam says, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “He’s drunk off his ass. He’s not worth it.”

“Sam, he’s our _dad_ , we’ve gotta look after him!” Dean says, voice insistent. And Sam sighs, because of how pathetic his brother sounds.

“Yeah- you boys, you’re all I’ve got!” John slurs from his seat. A small smile plays on Deans lips, and he looks triumphantly at Sam, who just rolls his eyes. Dean moves towards his father, leaning beside him, and Sam follows.

“Did I ever tell you boys- about your mother?” John asks, eyes flitting between them.

“Yeah dad, you have.” Sam deadpans, folding his arms. Dean shoots him a deadly look, which he ignores.

“Tell us dad, what did you wanna tell us about her?” Dean asks, voice light.

“Whe-when she died,” John mumbles, stretching his head backwards. “You boys- you were so young.”

“Yeah dad, we know.” Dean replies. But John shakes his head.

“No you don’t- you were too young. She died, and you were too young to understand.”

“Dad, we understood. We knew she was gone.” Sam says, hands clasping tightly together as he sat in the sofa opposite his father. He doesn’t need to hear the story of the house fire that took his mother’s life, not again.

“No, no, no-” John mumbles. “How she died- I always told you it was in the house fire, but-” his breath hitches, and suddenly he starts spluttering. Sam immediately tenses, but Dean rushes to his father, handing him a glass of water.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asks, teeth gritted.

“You-you need to understand, Sammy, you’re mom- she was such a happy woman… she was, until- well. Until she wasn’t, you know?” he slurs. A look of confusion passes between the brothers, and John shifts in his chair, hand shaking as he tries to grip the glass of water, sipping from it slowly. “You were too young to understand but- she got real sad, y’know? And then- one day, I woke up in the night, and she was gone. I walked into the bathroom, and there she was,” he coughs “Dead on the floor, with a slash on each dammed wrist and blood everywhere- and I was so mad, Sammy,” his eyes flicker, turning towards his youngest son. “I was mad at her, and myself- so I started that God damned fire. And I burnt everything to the ground.”

He coughs once more, throwing the glass out of his hand. It hits the opposite wall and smashes, before John slumps back in his seat, unconscious.

The room is silent, for a moment, nothing but the sound of John’s shallow breaths.

“Dean.” Sam says, voice suddenly quiet. Dean just shakes his head, eyes fixed on the floor.

“He’s lying Sammy- he’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.” He says, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself than his brother.

“But- but Dean, why would he lie about that?” Sam asks, standing and moving towards his brother.

“Just drop it Sam. He’s lying.”

“But-”

“Drop it.” Dean repeats, his voice stern. And it feels like Sam’s been flung back in time, like he’s a little kid and he has to do what Dean says, just because Dean’s bigger, and Dean’s stronger and Dean’s older than he is. So Sam drops it, pushing past his brother and heading back upstairs.

oOo

Dean doesn’t forget his father’s words from the morning, and he doesn’t think he ever will, but still- he pushes them into the back of his mind, ignoring them. He stuffs the memories of his mom crying and shouting on the phone, arguing with his dad, and the looks of the dark circles under her eyes, that grew darker every morning into a box. And he cello tapes the box, wrapping it in layer after layer of duct tape, before shoving it into the recess of his mind. Because John Winchester isn’t anything but a drunk and a liar.

He needs a distraction, which comes immediately as he enters college. Sam walks in the opposite direction, away from Dean as soon as he climbs out the impala, leaving Dean alone.

Until he notices Jo, sitting alone under the tree.

He’s still not quite sure what happened to her that night at Garth’s, but ever since- there’s been something wrong. There’s something missing, it’s like the light behind her eyes is flickering. Not that she’ll even let anyone bring it up, before jumping down their throats and storming off.

Still, he approaches her from behind, catching her off guard. “Hey Joanna Beth.” He calls in a light, teasing tone, causing her to flinch, before turning around and glaring at him.

“Dean, you scared the shit out of me!” she says, a grin forming on her face. But somehow, her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“You okay?” he asks. She nods.

“Yeah, I’m good. How about you, Winchester?”

Dean shrugs, sitting opposite her. “I’m okay.” He says, but he doesn’t dare meet her eyes. Because Jo is the only person, apart from Sammy, that can read him like a book. And she knows where he hides all of his secrets- in the eyes.

“Oh yeah, try and say that whilst looking me in the eye.” She says, voice brimming with snark. He sighs, raising his eyes slowly to meet hers, she shakes her head. “Honestly Dean, what’s wrong. Who’s this girl that’s got you all tied up in knots?”

“It’s nothing Jo, just leave it, okay?” he pleads, eyes wide.

She snorts. “Don’t try the puppy eyes on me, Dean, you know it only works for your brother.” She shifts closer to him, their knees touching. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Don’t mention any names if you don’t want to, just- I don’t know Dean. But I just want to help you.”

And the look in her eyes, so sincere- it makes Dean’s heart melt. Because Joanna Beth doesn’t lie. Not to him.

He releases a long breath he didn't know he was holding.

“So there’s this girl-”

Jo squeals. “Knew it!” she exclaims. Dean glares at her, and she presses her lips together. “Sorry, go on.”

Dean sighs. “I- uh, I’ve known her for a while. And I guess I always kinda- uh, liked her, you know? Even though I shouldn’t’ve. But I did. and then, one day we- we fucked, you know? And it was like, everything up to that point in my life had been meaningless, like my new life had just started, with nothing but her by my side. But then I sorta- came back to reality and I knew it could never work between us, and I tried to tell her that but she already knew. And she didn't care. But then, I saw her at, uh, Crowley’s party, and she was with someone else.”

He sighs, glancing at the ground. True to her word, Jo doesn’t say anything, but gently places a hand onto his leg. Her silent support urges him to continue.

“So then I met with her a week later, just before I showed up at Garths. And I told her I liked her and we almost kissed but then- she said ‘no.’ that she really liked this new guy, I guess- and she can’t be with me. And I guess that maybe I always knew it couldn’t work with us but- I didn't expect it to hurt that much, you know?”

He glances up to Jo, and she sighs. “I’m sorry Dean. But- sometimes, you just have to wait for people to realise what’s right in front of them, you know?”

Dean snorts. “Is that what you’re waiting for with Benny then?” he asks, slight smile growing on his face. Jo blushes.

“Shut up.” She mumbles, eyes fixed to the ground. Dean laughs, but not in a mocking tone. And Jo herself smiles, because it’s the first time in too long she’s sat down with her best friend and teased each other.

“Aw, sorry babe, but everybody knows that you two have a thing for each other. No secret banging without telling your best pal Dean, I hope.”

Jo laughs. “You’re such an asshole, and for the record there is definitely _no_ secret banging going on. Okay?”

“Fine, but you know, I can put in a good word for you if you’d-” Dean is cut off by Jo shoving him, and _damn_ that girl is a lot stronger than she looks. The two dissolve into laughter, Jo pressing her head back against the tree.

They laugh for a minute or so, until eventually it turns into just heavy breaths and grins. “So,” Jo asks, regaining her composure. “What’s going on with your brother and Gabriel?”

Dean scoffs. “Those two, I swear to God- I can feel Sam’s blue balls from here, he hasn’t gotten laid in so long. He’s so fucking wrapped up in the trickster it’s ridiculous.”

Jo tilts her head. “But I thought Gabriel was totally into him too? She asks Dean shrugs. “Yeah, so did I- until at Garth’s party, we met Gabriel’s girlfriend.”

“Gabriel has a girlfriend?” Jo asks, shock evident in her face.

“Yeah, somehow he convinced that girl Anna to take him back. God knows how.”

“Anna?” Jo asks, voice quiet. “Anna Milton?”

“Yeah,” Dean nods, eyes flitting around the campus. He doesn’t notice Jo’s expression of shock and fear, because something else catches his eye. A flurry of red hair, next to a short-stack with golden eyes strutting across the green, headed in their direction.

 “Speak of the devil.” He mutters as Gabriel and Anna approach them.

“Dean-o, Joanna, I assume you already know Anna.” He says with a grin, throwing an arm around the pale redhead’s shoulder. Dean flashes a smile at her, but Jo just nods, her eyes uneasy.

Dean shoots her a worried glance, but she ignores it.

“Jo!” Anna exclaims, smiling widely. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Jo forces a smile back to the girl, but doesn’t meet her eyes. “Ha, yeah I know.” She says, her voice suddenly flat.

“Have you spoken to-”

“No, uh- we don’t really talk anymore.” Jo is quick to reply, cutting Anna off midsentence.

“Oh,” she replies. “Well, he still asks about you sometimes. It might be worth giving him a call.”

Jo nods. “Yeah, I don’t know. I might.” She scrambles trying to collect up her bag and jacket, before standing. “Anyway, I have to go. I have a lecture to get to so, don’t wait up.” She flashes Dean and Gabriel a smile, but it looks far from genuine, before she rushes off down the field.

Dean has a thousand questions, but he knows he isn’t gonna get any answers from Anna right now, considering Gabriel has his tongue down her throat. What an _asshole._

Then Dean ‘accidentally’ spills some of his water on Gabriel’s leg, who manages to part from the redheads mouth long enough to glare at him.

“Sorry,” Dean says with an angry smile. “My hand slipped.”

He screws the cap back on, before standing off and walking away.

Nobody messes with Sammy.

oOo

Mr Singer’s lecture on motor engineering goes on slightly longer than planned, so when Dean does get out of the university building, the grounds are practically empty. Sammy’s probably already left, so he doesn’t worry about finding his brother. He pulls out his phone, just to check that Sam hasn’t text him.

The screen flashes: _one new message. Unknown number._

Dean frowns, because who would possibly text him that he didn't know? He opens the message, and his breath hitches.

It’s a photo, of her- Castielle. She’s wearing the same black lace underwear he fucked her in, and nothing else. The photo is grainy from the phone’s camera, but he can clearly make out that it’s her. It’s the eyes, piercing blue.

The caption is. _Come over. I want you here._

Dean doesn’t bother to reply, tucking the phone back into his pocket, and retrieving his car keys. He hopes to God that Gabriel isn’t home.

oOo

“Sammy!” Gabriel shouts, running towards the tall moose. The campus is practically empty, so it’s more than easy to spot Sam, leaning against a tree, eyes scanning the car park. Gabriel catches his attention and his head snaps towards him.

Gabriel approaches him quickly, breaths heavy and uneven. “Hey- uh, Sammy,” he breathes, hands on his knees. Sam chuckles.

“Take it easy Gabe, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” He says with a smirk. Gabriel manages to wheeze out, “fuck you”, before taking drink of (Sam’s) water.

“What do you want Gabriel? I’m waiting for Dean, wherever the fuck he is.”

Gabriel frowns. “Dean left, like an hour ago? I saw the impala take off.” He says.

Sam narrows his eyes. “You’re joking, right?” he asks.

Gabriel shakes his head. “Scouts honour.” He swears, holding three fingers into the air. Sam sighs, shaking his head.

“Asshole.” He mutters.

“Still, considering you’re obviously free and all- since Garth is staying in the dorms here now, we’re gonna hang in his room for the night, playing videogames and shit. Benny’s got joints. It’ll be fun.”

“Nah, I can’t. gotta get home and make sure Dean’s okay.” Sam replies, shaking his head slightly.

“Whoa, co-dependency issues much.” Gabriel mutters, just loud enough for Sam to hear. But what’s Sam to say? That he’s worried Dean’s freaking out over what his dad said this morning? Because Sam’s freaking out too.

“Yeah, whatever.” He says with a sigh. “I’m just gonna head home, so- don’t wait up for me.”

“Okay.” Gabriel says, shooting the Winchester a small smile. “I'll be back at mine later though- if you wanna, uh, come over- or whatever. Chuck and Becky are at some convention until tomorrow so- whatever.”

Sam smiles. “Okay, maybe.” He says, before throwing his hands into his jacket pockets and heading off down the road, looks like he’ll be walking home, unless Dean can come and pick him up. He pulls his phone out, deciding to send his brother a text.

_16:57_

_To: Dean_

_Subject:_

_I’m just leaving college now. Are you at home?_

His phone beeps, barely moments later.

_16:58_

_From: Dean_

_Subject:_

_No, I’m out. I'll see you later._

Sam groans, because he’s well versed in Dean’s ambiguous replies, and can translate that to, _I’m going to get laid. See you fucking never._

So he’s either gonna have to walk home and deal with a drunk, angry John, or turn back and play videogames and get high with Garth, Benny and Gabriel. His decision is clear in his head, and he moves to turn back around when his phone begins to ring, registering an unknown number. Hesitantly, he presses ‘answer’ and holds the phone to his ear.

“Uh, hello?”

“ _Moose._ ” Comes a voice that Sam recognises. Distinctively British, somewhat sinister.

“Crowley?”

“ _the one and the same.”_

“Uh can I- help you?” he asks.

“ _Indeed. Remember our deal, Sam?”_

“Uh, yeah? What about it?” Sam’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“ _Well, I’m due payment. Now.”_

Sam’s eyes widen. “I-uh, I don’t have any money.” He says, voice wobbling slightly. What was he thinking letting Crowley talk him into something like this?! But Crowley surprises him, just laughing down the line.

“ _I wasn’t talking payment of the money kind, Moose.”_

Sam swallows.

oOo

He actually stands and paces outside her door for a minute or so before he works up the courage to actually knock. His breath hitches as she opens, because the grainy picture on his phone doesn’t do her justice.

She looks beautiful, and he has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t tell her so as he steps into the room. She just smiles like she already knows.

It’s dark in the hallway, and she leans against one of the walls, back arched. Her bare toes curl slightly against the wooden floor. There’s only one thing added to her (lack of) outfit.

His jacket.

And his heart swells, burning through his chest. Something else burns further south too, but he desperately tries not to think about that. Or doing that at all, let alone with her.

“Hey Jailbait.” He says, trying harder than he hopes she’d think to keep his voice at a regulated tone.

She says nothing, but steps off the wall, towards him. It’s dark, but the light from her kitchen shines on half of her face, and her blue eyes radiate through the darkness anyway.

She walks until her body is pressed against his, causing him to lean against the staircase. She tiptoes, her face resting against his. “Did you like what you saw in the photo.” She whispers, breath warm against his ear.

He swallows. “Yeah, maybe I did.” he replies. He can’t see her face, but he can tell that she’s smiling, coy and knowing. He thinks that if she was an animal, she’d be a fox. Cunning and sly, creeping through the night unnoticed, always three steps ahead of the game.

All thoughts of metaphors are pulled out of his brain when he feels her tongue, wet and hot against the side of his face, darting out to play behind his ear. He tries and fails to stifle a quiet moan, because he knows this is wrong.

(but why did things that were wrong have to feel so right?)

“Nobody’s home. Gabe won't be in until they kick him out of the dorms at eight.” She whispers.

“Cas,” he whispers back, but it comes out more like a whine. “We can’t do this, you know we can’t.”

She retracts, but snakes her hands up to his shoulders, around his neck. But now, he can see her face, her wide eyes staring into his. “I know,” she replies. “I know we shouldn’t, but that’s never stopped me before.”

Then Castielle closes the distance between their mouths, and Dean wonders how he ever came up with an objection to this. The kiss is chaste at first, but something snaps inside Dean. He thinks of Lucifer, with his hands all over her, his mouth all over her neck, and something seizes up inside of him. Because she’s _his_ , in every sense of the word.

He moves from her mouth, down to his neck, nibbling and sucking. She tenses, and he immediately detaches, moving to look back at her face, his expression questioning.

“No marks.” She whispers. “He can’t find out.”

Dean nods, because _fuck it_ he’s so turned on he doesn’t think he’s got it in him to stop now. So he moves back to her mouth, exploring it. He skids across every single one of her pearly white teeth, and bites at her lips, causing her to moan loudly.

That’s all he needs.

He grabs at the bottom of her thighs, lifting her up in his arms and moving in the direction of the stairs. She wraps her long legs around his waist, and rolls her hips gently against his, causing him to let out a cry. She grins.

“Such a fucking tease.” He says with a laugh, reaching out to grab at the staircase banister. He moves quickly, feet hitting the steps and making audible thuds. Once he gets to the top her hands are all over him again running through his hair, around his neck and down to his chest as she kisses all over his face, long fingers darting out to undo his shirt buttons.

oOo

Crowley’s office is just as Sam expected, really. It’s dark, mostly, with an all too large dark oak desk, tasteless fur rugs spread everywhere, heavy curtains and a garish fireplace. It looks more like a boudoir than anything, which isn’t exactly surprising.

He steps in hesitantly, eyeing Crowley from across the room. He’s a short man, leaning back in an entirely too big leather chair, that looks like it’s swallowing him.

“Moose.” He says with a smile, standing quickly. “Glad you could come.”

Sam swallows thickly, and Crowley sends him a devilish grin. “Don’t worry, you’ll be doing a lot of that tonight.” He says.

Sam frowns. “Crowley I- I don’t think I can-” he stops when Crowley’s movement stills. He steps forwards, and Sam takes a step back.

“I’m sorry Sam, but I don’t think you’re fucking understanding me.” He says, voice grainy. He takes another step, and Sam moves back.

“You owe me,” Crowley continues, shrugging out of his dark coat. “And tonight, you’re going to make that payment.” He steps forwards a third time, and Sam’s legs crash against a sofa, causing him to stumble and sit down. He can’t move anywhere else, because Crowley’s right in front of him, dark eyes staring down menacingly.

“Whether you like it, or not.” He adds in a whisper.

Sam’s eyes grow wide with fear, and he swallows. “No- Crowley please-” he says as the brit moves even closer, their foreheads touching. Sam shakes his head frantically, but Crowley’s hands dart forwards, gripping at his chin. He tilts Sam’s head up.

“Listen to me moose. You’re. Mine.” He says, as he tilts Sam’s head sideways, exposing his neck. His tongue darts out, licking a long strip up one blue vein in Sam’s neck, and the younger Winchester whimpers.

“Now get up and bend over that nice big desk for me, yeah?” he asks, but his tone doesn’t sound like Sam has much of a choice. “Nice and pretty for me, right moose?”

Sam swallows, voice thick. “Right.” He chokes.

oOo

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Dean whispers against Cas’ ear, nipping at it slightly as he walks towards what he really fucking hopes is her room.

He sighs in relief as he opens the door. Her room is dark, with the thick curtains harshly drawn. The wallpaper is pink and stripy, with some sort of Disney princess border around the middle. For a second, it reminds him how young she is.

But then she distracts him again, rolling her hips ever so slightly against his, moaning as she sucks hard at his neck, shrugging herself out of his jacket. It falls to the floor, quickly followed by his own shirt, and his ministrations move to the open expanse of his chest, pink tongue darting out to circle his nipple.

He hisses in pleasure, and hears her let out a breathy snicker before she moves to kiss the other one, sucking lightly. And that’s when he realises he _really_ needs to get his jeans off- right fucking now.

He fumbles with the button after he lays just on top of her, one arm propping him up. His thumb misses the loop several times, and she smiles.

“Let me.” She says, gripping his hips, and shifting her weight to flip him down on the bed. She climbs on top of him, straddling his waist as she tugs at the button, pushing it through the loop.

She moves off of him, and onto the floor after pulling the zip down, so she can pull them off. Dean kicks his feet gently, shrugging them off his ankles.

She moves up slightly, hooking her fingers into his boxers before pulling them down in one swift move, leaving them to pool round his ankles. His member springs to attention, growing harder at every shallow breath she gives. Dean kicks his boxers off, spreading his knees apart slightly as she crawls up to him, situating herself between his legs.

He raises her head to look at him, smiling devilishly, before blowing gently at the tip.

“Cas,” he whines. “Please.”

She grins, and moves lower, kissing the head. His breath hitches as she repeats the action, twice more, before her pretty pink tongue darts out, hesitantly licking at the pool of pre-come settled at the head.

“Is this what you want?” she asks, taking another painfully slow lick.

Dean nods frantically, eyes screwed tightly. “Yes Cas, please. I want you- want your mouth!” he pants.

She moves down on him, enclosing the whole head into her mouth, tongue playing at the tip. Dean lets out a moan, hips shifting upwards slightly. She moves her hands to his angled hip bones, holding him down gently as she lowers her mouth down further and further, until her nose is almost touching his crotch.

And then, just as slowly, she pulls his cock all the way back out, releasing it with a pop. He looks up just in time to see her unhook her bra from behind her back, allowing it to slip off to the floor, before she lowers her mouth on him again.

Only this time, her movements are quicker. She sucks him off harder, using her hand to pump at the base she can't quite fit in her mouth. Dean moans loudly, fingers reaching down to play with her hair.

Her tongue swirls round the head, before darting down to play with the shaft and then back again, and she repeats the routine over and over, until Dean is a quivering mess above her.

“Cas, please- I’m close.” He says, words coming out slightly choked. She raises herself off him, wiping a little pre-come off the side of her mouth.  She doesn’t break eye contact with him as she crawls up his body, until she is back straddling his waist. His cock rubs slightly at her already damp underwear, streaking the dark fabric in musky fluid.

He sits up slowly, panting, before moving his hands to paw at her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over the nubs of her nipples. She throws her head back moaning as he kisses up her neck, moving one hand down from her chest to the rim of her panties, tracing around the line gently.

“Dean- please.” She pants. He moves back to her mouth, kissing her soundly as two finger dart into her underwear, playing in her folds. Soon his thumb joins as the two fingers dart into her heat, his thumb pressing against her clit. She moans louder, but his kisses swallow it as he stands, lifting her before turning and throwing her back down onto the bed. This time, he’s going to make sure he’s the one in full control.

He withdraws his hands, causing her to whimper from the lack of contact, until he pulls her underwear down to the floor. Immediately, she parts her knees, spreading her legs wide for him, offering him everything she has. He moves his hands up to cup the inside of her knees and leans forwards, the head of his cock nosing at her entrance.

“Condoms, bedside drawer.” She pants, glancing over to the chest by her bed.

“You sure?” Dean asks, “I can pull out again?”

She shakes her head, moaning “I want you to come inside of me this time.”

He stretches his arm, reaching over to fumble in the drawer, before reaching into a box and pulling out one condom. Her toes curl slightly, hovering in the air, and she moves one hand down to touch herself, whimpering.

Dean smiles, as he rips the packet open with his teeth, using his other hand to stop her movements. “No Cas, I’m the only one that’s gonna be making you come tonight.” He whispers, and goose-bumps rise on her skin.

He slides the condom on quickly, before lining himself up with her entrance, her calves settling on his shoulders. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, hesitant for a moment.

“Always, Dean.” She replies, eyes bright as they stares into his.

He pushes into her quickly, filling her up in an instant, and she throws her head back to moan loudly, Dean joining her as he becomes encased by her tight heat.

He picks up the pace, quickening his thrusts and then slowing them down, using his strength to lift her hips slightly, angling his movements. She whines and pants and moans like girls he watches in videos, shouting and screaming his name. He wants to get lost inside of her, make a home and live there forever. Because he’s never felt anything better than this.

Towards the end, when he knows they’re both about to lose it, his thrusts get shallower, and more erratic as his thighs seize up, hips spasming and jerking. They come together, and Dean sees stars and planets and girls with bright blue eyes that hold all the secrets of the universe.

“I think I love you.” He pants out, as he rolls off her and lay’s beside her on the bed, chest heaving. She turns into him, one hand splayed on his chest. “I know.” She says.

He laughs. “Did you just Hans Solo me?” he asks.

She sits up slightly, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head in a way that Dean is almost ashamed to say he finds hot. “I don’t understand that reference.” She says.

Dean just shakes his head, smiling. “Don’t worry about it.”

oOo

As Sam limps down the road towards his house, his phone beeps. He glances at it, vision still slightly blurred with tears, but he can still make it out.

_19:46_

_From: Crowley_

_Subject:_

_You’re welcome._

Sam’s whole body tenses, and he throws the phone into the road, hearing it smash against the pavement. Furiously, he wipes away a stray tear that threatens to escape from his eye. He’s cried enough for one night.

He knows his arm is still bleeding, because it stings as he pulls his hoodie tighter against him, trying to protect himself from the chill off the night, but he ignores it, approaching his door.

He just wants a hot shower, and enough vodka to forget the whole thing.

And pills. Lots of them.

His hands are still trembling slightly as he tries to get the key in the lock, but there are so many scratches around the opening from his dad, that he hardly notices. Only as blood fills his mouth does he realise he’d been biting his lip.

Finally able to slip the key in and turn it, Sam stumbles into the house. He’s sore, everywhere, and all he really wants is to be able to go upstairs without any of his dad’s bullshit.

But then there’s that nagging feeling in his head that something isn’t quite right. He knows his dad is home, because his work boots are still at the front door where he left them when he crawled home this morning, and his jacket is still hanging limply on the banister.

“Dad?” he calls out, trying to disguise the hoarseness of his throat. He steps through the hallway, turns and opens the door into the living room. John is slouched in the chair, just where Sam had left him that morning.

“Dad?” he asks, voice hesitant. He flicks the light on, heart racing as the shadowy figure of his father is brought into view. His breath hitches.

John’s head is lolling back lifelessly, his eyes wide open, but glazed over. One arm hangs limply , grazing the floor.

“Dad?” Sam chokes out, eyes quickly filling with tears. Because Sam’s a smart kid. And he knows his dad is dead.

Suddenly the room feels all too small, like the walls are closing in on him, and Sam flees, dragging himself back into the hallway and slamming the door behind him, breathing ragged. He needs to get out.

He moves as quickly as he can, wincing slightly as he reaches to grab the house phone, dialling a number he’s always known off by heart.

_This is Dean Winchester, leave a message._

Sam groans, hanging up and quickly dialling another number.

_This is Dean’s other cell, leave a message._

_This is Dean’s other other cell. You know what to do._

A sob chokes out of his body, and Sam runs a hand through his hair. A little more blood trickles out of his lip, running down his chin. He wipes it harshly, before picking the phone back up again, and dialling the only other number he’s ever known by heart.

Gabriel picks up on the second ring.

“Casa Winchester? Is this Sammich or Dean-o?”

Sam has this whole speech planned in his head from the moment he begins to dial Gabriel’s number, of what he’s going to say and how he's going to stay calm and explain everything he can. But as soon as he hears Gabriel chipper voice, he breaks.

“Gabe?” he sobs.

“Sam? Sam- what’s wrong?”

“Oh God, Gabe- I- my-”

“Sam, Sam listen to me- just breathe, okay? What’s wrong?

Sam takes a few ragged breaths, trying to calm himself down again. “Gabriel my- my dad’s dead… and I think I’ve been raped.”

There is silence down the line, for a moment that for Sam, feels like years.

“Stay there. I'll be round in ten.”

The phone beeps and cuts off, and Sam lets it fall from his hands, a few stray tears running down his face. Everything in the house is too hot, too sticky, so he shrugs his hoodie off, leaving it in a pool on the floor.

He needs to get out.

He grabs his keys back from where he had just hung them on the door, and darts out of the house, slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t bother with his jacket, and the cold night air sends goose-bumps running up his biceps.

He can’t run, but he limps along the road as quickly as he can, away from the house. He doesn’t get far when he knows that he has to stop, because the rational part of Sam is telling him that if he doesn’t stop and take a few deep breaths, he’s going to go into shock pretty quickly.

He wraps his arms tightly around his biceps, and stares down the road, waiting for Gabriel to come.

oOo

“You have to leave.” She says, after they lay together for half an hour or so. They don’t really talk, just Dean speaks and she listens, laying her head on his shoulder. She doesn’t do things like this with Lucifer.

After sex, she’ll always be the one to leave, because after one night laying in his arms, all she did was wish that he was Dean.

“I know.” He says, sighing, sitting up.

“I wish you could stay.” She says, eyes downcast.

“I wish you were mine.” He replies, eyes glancing to her for a second as he pulls his shirt from the floor, buttoning it swiftly.

She doesn’t reply, because what can she really say? That she wishes for the same thing? She does, of course, but she can't tell him that. Because she doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as Dean Winchester. She deserves someone like Lucifer.

Dean stands, walking over to the wall to flick the light switch on. His eyes scan around the room, taking in every detail, burning it to his memory forever. Then his eyes swivel to her as he pulls up his boxers, then his jeans. Her, laying in the bed with the pink bed sheets, arms raised and above her head, littered with- wait.

He moves closer, squinting as he clambers back on the bed beside her. “What?” she asks, sitting up, duvet clutched close to her chest.

“Let me see your arms.” He says. Her eyes swivel downwards, ignoring his harsh gaze. He reaches for her, arms tight on her bony shoulders, before moving down to her wrists, clutching them tightly. He tugs slightly, causing her to turn into him.

Her arms are littered with bruises, from the wrist to the shoulder. She has similar ones on her collarbone, and a particularly nasty cut on her shoulder. He doesn’t know how he didn't notice before, but maybe it was a mix of the darkness and the blind lust and her, in nothing but black panties and his leather jacket, teasing him.

“Cas- is,” he swallows. “Is this him? Lucifer?”

She moves her eyes to meet his, gaze hard and icy. She shrugs. Releasing her arms from his, and reaching into her drawer to pull out a cigarette, and a yellow lighter. She doesn’t say anything, just lights it, leaving it balancing in-between her lips.

“He hurts you.” Dean spits, reaching forwards again and tugging her left arm back towards him.

Cas’ face remains expressionless as she wafts the cigarette in the air, and she shrugs. “Sometimes it’s just nice to be able to feel something.”

Dean sighs, gently running his finger up her arm, tracing a path between the inflictions. She winces slightly.

“Why are you with him, Cas? Why do you let him do this to you? Why do you do this to yourself?”

Castielle sucks at her cigarette, puffing smoke out of the corner of her mouth. And then she says four words that rip Dean’s insides apart in a single second.

“I love him, Dean.”

He refuses to believe his eyes are welling in tears, refuses to believe that he can feel anything other than anger. “Forever?” he asks, green eyes locking with blue.

“For now.”

“Okay.”

Dean stands, zipping his trousers back up, and tying the laces in his boots. He wants to say something else to her, but he can’t quite form the words. All he can think, is that he loves her.

He decides he needs to take another drive. No phone calls, no distractions. Nothing but him, one of his cassettes, and the road. That’s all he needs, or so he tells himself.

He leaves the room, and Castielle hears his footsteps thud down the stairs, and the distinct sound of the front door clicking shut behind him. She sniffs, refusing to believe she misses him already, and drops the cigarette into the glass of water beside the bed.

oOo

Gabriel gets halfway up the Winchester’s street, windscreen wipers squeaking when he finds Sam, shivering in the rain, wet hair sticking to his face. His arm is bleeding and Gabriel immediately notices bruises littering his neck, just beginning to show. There are a few scratches on his face, which is red and blotchy with tears, and Gabriel can clearly make out a split lip.

His hands tremble with rage against the wheel as Sam opens the passenger door and slides in. Gabriel takes a deep breath, because Sam needs him, now more than ever.

“You wanna just drive, for a while?” Gabriel asks.

Silently, Sam nods.

“Okay.” Gabriel says, pressing the accelerator, and sending them rolling further down the road. “Let’s just drive, until the storm passes. We can fix everything after.”

The two share a glace, golden eyes staring into brown. But then Sam looks like he might cry again, and Gabriel needs to focus on the road, because in weather like this, it’s more than likely that he’ll crash.

“Thank you. Gabriel” Sam says, voice hoarse.

Gabriel doesn’t tear his eyes from the road. “It’s okay.”

oOo

They drive in silence for what feels like a lifetime, just staring out at the rain. But as the storm begins to subside, and the road gets clear again, a thought springs into Sam’s mind.

“Dean!” he says, sitting up a little straighter.

“What about him?” Gabriel asks, glancing away from the road.

“He- I don’t think he knows. He- wasn’t home when I got in-and I called him but his phones were off.” Sam babbles, breath starting to become shallower. Gabriel pulls the car to a stop on the side of the road.

“Sam, look at me,” he says, placing a hand lightly on the younger Winchester’s thigh. “Breathe. Now why don’t you just call Dean, and tell him you’re staying with me tonight?”

“I smashed up my phone.” Sam says, head hanging. “And- I wouldn’t know what to say- I mean, Dean’s gonna be so devastated.”

“Leave it with me Sam.” Gabriel says, pulling from the curb and turning the car around. “Leave everything to me.”

oOo

When they arrive home, Cas is in bed, wrapped tightly in her duvet. Gabriel runs Sam a bath, and just manages to convince him to leave and take it, and that Gabriel can handle Dean.

He scrolls through his phone contacts, and dials Dean’s number.

The Winchester picks up on the fourth ring. “What’s up short-stack?”

“Oh Dean, thank God you answered! Where the fuck have you been?!”

“Who are you, my fucking mom? What’s up with you?”

Gabriel’s breath hitches. “Dean- I- I’m so sorry-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You need to get home. Wherever you are, you need to get home right away. Sammy’s with me, and he’ll be okay for the night but- Dean I’m so sorry, but you’re dad’s dead.”

Dean is silent, but Gabriel can hear his shallow breaths down the phone line, quickening. Dean hisses out, “This is some kind of practical joke, right?”

“No- Dean I’m so sorry but- there’s something else. Something awful happened to Sammy and-”

“What happened to Sammy?” Dean asks, voice hitching slightly. Dean’s pressure point has always been his brother, and Gabriel knows he has to tread lightly. Still, that doesn’t stop a single tear spilling from his eye.

“God, Dean- I- he said he was raped.”

He hears the swerving of the car, and Dean’s body jolt against the seat. “Dean, you still there?” he asks, hesitant.

“Who.” Dean spits.

“I-I don’t know, he hasn’t said much but- I’ve gotta look after him.”

“I’m coming to get him. Now.” Dean says, and Gabriel can hear the tyres screeching.

“No way Dean- it’s too dangerous. You’re in shock- you can’t just fix everything. I'll handle Sam tonight- you need to get over to Jo’s and stay there. Call 911 for your dad. I'll handle Sammy.”

“But, Gabriel,” Dean says, a sob pouring down the line. “Sammy- why would someone-”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel sighs. “But when I do find them… I will end them.”

“You and me both.” Dean says. “Oh God. My dad- what am I gonna-”

“Call 911 Dean. I'll handle the rest.”


	5. Sam, Gabriel, Dean and Jo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam, united in their grief, watch a few old home movies. A few weeks later, as a distraction, they sign up for the school trip to Russia, with Bobby and Pamela. Everything that could possibly go wrong, goes wrong- and a few truths come to light about Jo.

Chapter five: Sam, Gabriel, Dean and Jo

John Winchester’s funeral was one week later.

There weren’t many people there, as John had cut ties with almost everyone he had once known after the death of his wife, so the service was quick and easy. Only Dean, Sam, Ellen, Bobby, Jo, Gabriel, and a few obscure relatives stood around his gravestone.

The priest said his prayers, before the coffin was lowered into the ground, followed by a hefty thud of dirt being thrown onto the lid, by Dean.

Sam sighed, and refused the shovel. Bobby went next, probably being their dad’s oldest friend, and said a few words over the headstone about John. Surprisingly, it made Sam and Dean both smile, despite themselves.

 Bobby had always been such a big part in their lives, from looking after them when John was drunk, to being Dean’s professor in school, and Jo’s stepdad, he had always been around. And Bobby didn’t suffer fools, and he was never false.

“In his last few years, John Winchester was a washed-up, drunk, Idjit,” he said with a sigh, watching as more dirt began to spill on the coffin. “But no matter how bad it got, especially after Mary died, you two boys meant so much to him.” He looked up at Sam and Dean. “Even if he never said, he loved you both.”

Surprising himself, Sam felt a tear spill down his cheek. He had never really been close to his distant father in the seventeen years they spent together. Dean had most of the happy memories with John, when Mary was still alive and everything made sense.

Suddenly, Sam felt a warm hand slip into his own and squeeze gently. He glanced down to Gabriel, who gave him a small smile. “You okay, Samsquatch?” he asked, as the crowd began to filter out.

Sam nodded, wiping under his eye. “Yeah, I just uh- I guess I always knew we’d be the ones burying my dad but- I didn't expect it so soon.”

Gabriel sighed, stepping in front of Sam, and wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Sam returned the hug, resting his chin on the top of Gabriel’s head. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything this past week.”

Gabriel pulled away, smiling. “No problem Sam.” He shrugged. “That’s what friends are for, right?” he glanced over to Jo, who was hugging Dean tightly. Sam smiled, but said nothing.

Because Gabriel had done more than be a friend to him over the past week.

After the incident, Sam could barely stomach the thought of stepping foot back into his house. So he stayed at Gabriel’s. Chuck had rung the next morning, saying that he and Becky would be out for the week, and that they could use the emergency credit card.

So naturally, Gabriel abused his privileges. He ordered Sam’s favourite pizza and Chinese food every night, they rented movies, ate popcorn. Sam didn't see much of Cas throughout the week, as she spent most of her time alternating between wallowing in her room, and going out in the night.

The first night, Gabriel had inspected the damage done to Sam’s body. It was mostly minor bruising, which Gabriel lightly traced between his fingertips, trying his best to control his anger. There were a few small scratches around Sam’s face and neck, and a particularly nasty Gash on his arm.

“I-Uh, cut it, on the corner of his desk.” Was all Sam had said too explain. Gabriel didn't press for information, just cleansed the wound gently, and wrapped it in a bandage.

The worst of it all was on Sam’s right leg, on his upper thigh, was one long gash. The wound wasn’t too deep, but was deep enough to cause a  scar. Gabriel cleansed it with antiseptic, and bandaged it.

“Why?” he asked, in a quiet voice as he tore the bandage at the end. Sam’s body tensed.

“He wanted me to have something to remember him by.”

Gabriel lurched forwards, pulling Sam into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled at his shoulder. “This should never have happened to you.”

The first night, Sam slept in Gabriel’s bed. And the second night, and the third. All the way up until the day before the funeral, when Sam knew he needed to get home. He had refused to see Dean the whole week, no matter how many times the distressed Winchester had shown up at the door over the course of the week.

In all honestly, Sam as ashamed. He felt dirty and used, like a cheap slut. And finding his dad dead as soon as he got home, was probably what pushed him over the edge. Because of all of this, Sam knew that he wouldn’t be able to so much as look at Dean, without feeling the crippling sense of guilt all over again.

But the outcome of Sam’s return was very different.

The brothers didn't speak. Not about their dad. Not about Crowley. Not about their mom, or Gabriel or anyone.

They drank sodas, because in his anger, Dean had drunk half the alcohol in the house and poured the rest down the sink. But then, as the older Winchester had been searching through his dad’s secret stash of booze, porn, guns and condoms, Dean had found a box of tapes.

Each had a label, reading things like “Dean’s first birthday”  “Sam’s first Christmas” “Dean’s bike” “Mom’s birthday” and alike, and Dean had smiled.

He had crawled up in the loft, digging out their old VHS, and spent over an hour wiring it into the TV.

Dean and Sam sat in silence, watching all the old home movies until the sun went down. For Sam, it was reassurance that it had never been all bad. He was only three when Mary died, and could hardly remember her- but the tapes gave him a window into the life that he had lived.

For Dean, it was bittersweet torture.

However, seeing the smile on Sam’s face as he watched himself unwrap Christmas and birthday presents, and watch the two of them parade around as Batman and Superman, respectively on Halloween- it made it all worth it

Eventually, the recorder clicked and the tapes were all piled up neatly in the ‘watched pile’, leaving only one left. It wasn’t labelled, so they left it until last.

The screen hissed for a moment, before cutting to Mary, smiling in the camera. It was terribly angled, zoomed right up to her eye, and soon, the booming voice of John was heard.

“Oh, Balls, I’ve got it zoomed in!”

“Hit the minus button!” Mary replied, followed by the sound of laughter.

John laughed. “I am, but it’s not working, I swear!”

Mary sighed. “Give it here.”

The camera turned on John, and zoomed out so his torso was in range. “Is it fixed?” he asked. Dean’s breath hitched at how young his dad looked. He was well built, as John always had been, but his muscles were more defined. He had a little stubble around his chin, but his skin was bright and clear, his hair slightly tousled. His eyes were so bright.

“Yeah, do you want it?”

There was shaking and some clicking sounds as the camera was handed over, and it turned onto an obviously pregnant Mary.

“So what did you wanna say?” John asked. Mary smiled, looking into the camera.

“I wanna give a message to my boys. My Dean and soon, my Sammy.” She said with a fond smile, rubbing a hand over her stomach. “I just want them to know that we love them, a lot. That we’re always gonna love them.”

“Even if they turn out to be crazy serial killers?” John asked.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Even then. Though, if you keep messing about with the buttons on that camera, I think I’m going to be the one doing time in jail!”

John laughed. “You love me really though, right?”

She grinned, as the camera zoomed back into her face. “Always will.”

Then the tape cut, and the screen cut to white. Dean turned to Sam, but his vision was slightly blurred by unshed tears he hadn’t realised were there.

“Weird isn’t it,” Sam said, shaking his head. “That they used to be like that. That they were ever like that.”

Dean smiled. “I know.”

“I’m sorry Dean. For not- not seeing you this week. You must think I'm an asshole.” Sam said, staring down into his lap.

“Sammy, what you went through- I can’t even begin to-” he stopped, sighing. “Whatever. All I'm saying, is that even though you're my dumb kid brother- I’m always gonna be here for you, you know? I love you Sam and- you’re all I have, okay? Dad always said to me, that my job is to make sure you’re okay- and that’s what I'm gonna do”

“I love you too Dean. Always will.”

OoO

That night, Sam slept on his own in his own bed for the first time in almost a week. But from the moment he drifted into unconsciousness, all he could see was _him_ ,Crowley, behind his eyes. Every move, every hit and scratch and bruise, happened again and again, leaving Sam a wreck as he bolted awake, sweat dripping down his face.

He got up, shaking his head, and padded out the room. He walked across the landing, knocking loudly on Dean’s door. His brother answered quickly, and noting Sam’s red eyes and sweat-dripping hair, immediately asked- “Nightmare?”

Sam nodded.

“You wanna sleep in my bed, with me?”

Sam nodded again, head hung slightly.

And that’s how Sam found himself, for the first time since he was seven, tucked inside the warm, familiar figure of his older brother. It felt safe, and familiar, like all those times when he was just a kid, and Dean was his superhero.

And in a lot of ways, Sam realised- Dean still was.

oOo

After Sam leaves, Gabriel goes into his sisters room. She’s been different, this past week- but he’s been so wrapped up in Sam, and making sure that he’s okay, it’s been hard for him to keep track of her.

She’s sitting on her bed, cigarette in hand. She must have smoked her way through at least three cartons, because she keeps asking him to run out and buy more for her.

He tosses the new packet on the bed. “Sam’s gone.” He says, moving to sit beside her. She’s wrapped up in one of his old black hoodies, which drowns her despite his own small stature. She doesn’t reply to him.

“Also, Chuck and Becky are gonna be back tomorrow, so don’t go out tonight- okay?”

“I can’t stay, I have to work tonight.” She says, running a hand through her hair.

Gabriel sighs, fist clenching slightly. “Cas- I dunno about this, about Crowley anymore- what he did, to Sam- I don’t want you anywhere near that.” He says.

She shakes her head. “Crowley wouldn’t do that to me. I’m Lucifer’s- and he wouldn’t dare cross Lucifer.”

“And you’re sure he can protect you, Lucifer? Gabriel asks, eyebrows furrowing with worry. He knows his sister well- better than anyone ever could, and he knows there’s something that he isn’t telling her.

“He can. He can do anything he likes.” She says.

Gabriel sighs, because he knows he can’t make Castiel do a damn thing she doesn’t want to. “Fine. But promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.”

oOo

_Two weeks later_

Dean has always hated aeroplanes.

His grip on the hand rest beside him is so tight, his knuckles turn white as the plane begins its descent in Russia, Metallica blasting through his headphones.

“Hey, you okay?” Jo asks, her own delicate fingers lacing through his. “We’re here, we’re fine.” She reassures him, smiling.

Dean shakes his head, pulling the headphones down around his neck. “Why the fuck did I agree to come on this trip?” he asks.

“Because, Bobby thought you and Sam needed a distraction. Which you do-” she replies, shoving him lightly as he rolls his eyes. “-which brings me to my next question,” she turns, peering over the seat behind her to Garth and Benny. “You brought it, right?” she asks.

This catches Sam’s attention from the aisle seat next to Garth and Benny, and nudges Gabriel awake. “Brought what?” he asks.

Garth just shoots him a not-at-all reassuring wink, before turning back to Jo and nodding. “The whole bag, up my ass.”

Gabriel, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, grimaces. “That’s gross. Maybe I'll pass.”

Garth rolls his eyes. “Shut up Gabe, like you don’t have anything in your pants either.”

Gabriel grins as Sam turns to him, giving him a disapproving look. “I am _not_ bailing you out of Russian jail.”

Gabriel scoffs. “Relax, Sammy, nothing could possibly go wrong.”

oOo

Things, of course, do go wrong- from the moment they step inside the airport- _if_ you could even call it that. Even Bobby grimaces as he guides the group of them off the plane, into what looks more like a shack.

“You sure about this, Pamela?” he asks warily, turning to the only other teacher who agreed to come on this god-forsaken trip.

“Yeah- you ladies ‘aint seen nothing like I have. This is luxury!” she says with a grin, heeled boots clicking in the dirt as she heads into the building. Bobby just sighs, following her.

“This way, idjits.” He mutters, straightening his cap.

“Jesus Christ Bobby, you’ve really outdone yourself!” Jo calls, voice drowned in sarcasm as she pats the elder man on the back. Bobby rolls his eyes. “I’ve told you, Joanna, it’s Mr Singer in school.”

Jo just smirks. “We’re not _in_ school, Bobby. And I told _you_ , it’s Jo.”

Before he can reply, she skips over to Garth and Benny, who are whispering to each other, Garth’s expression sheepish as he eyes the armed guards who stand either side of the doorske a shack.

call it that. s anger. there  th.

“To look any more suspicious, you’re gonna need a balaclava and a briefcase.” She mutters, startling the both of them. Garth turns more than a little pale.

“Uh, Jo- I’m not so sure about this anymore.” He says, voice turning an octave higher than usual. Jo rolls her eyes.

“Relax, they’re hardly gonna have in depth security in this hut- look at Gabriel, he’s taking it in his stride!” she says, pointing towards the trickster.

Gabriel is walking hand in hand with Anna who signed up on the trip last minute to be with him, but isn’t paying much attention to her. His grip is loose where hers tightens.

She’s got her face turned to look at him, but he’s enthralled in conversation by Sam, the two laughing and joking as they exit the runway. Jo rolls her eyes and Benny snickers.

“When are those two idiots gonna pull their head’s out of their asses and-”

He gets cut off mid-sentence as they enter the building, by a man with a thick Russian accent. “All bags in trays, and one by one you need to step through metal detector.” He says.

The group falls silent, anxious glances passed between all of them.

“Come on gang, do as the nice man says.” Pamela coaxes, tossing her own handbag into the tray before stepping through the metal detector, eyeing up the guard. “You know, I’m all for a pat down if deemed necessary.” She says with a sultry grin.

The guards blank expressions don’t break and she rolls her eyes, picking up her handbag and tossing it over her shoulder. “You’re loss.” She mumbles.

One by one, with no real problem, everyone steps through the metal detectors, the exited buzz of being away in a foreign country with no parents slowly returning until every member of the group is on the other side.

“Good, now the formalities are out of the way do you think our-” Pamela begins to ask, but a silent look is passed between two of the guards, and two heavy sets of hands clamp down on Gabriel and Garth’s shoulders.

“Through here.” The man commands, pushing the two through a door.

“No- no wait!” Garth calls, but the man grabs the back of his head, pushing him inside.

“ _Balls._ ” Both Jo and Bobby mutter at the same time, before sharing a glance.

“Young lady if you had anything to do with this, I swear to God-”

“I'll handle it.” Pamela says, pushing past bobby, but patting him on the back. “Don’t have an aneurism old man. It’s probably nothing. The boys were just messing around, right?” she turns her glance to Jo, who nods sheepishly.

Pamela smiles. “That’s what I thought. I'll just be a minute now.”

oOo

Pamela emerges outside of the door ten minutes later, a tight grip on both Gabriel and Garth’s shoulders, one hundred dollars poorer and a whole lot more agitated.

Garth and Gabriel’s expressions are sheepish, but with a confirmed nod from one of the guards, they’re free to go. Still- for good measure, Pamela smacks them both upside the back of the head as they make their way out of the airport.

“In my defence, that could’ve been _a lot_ worse.” Gabriel says, rubbing his head.

“You’re such a moron.” Sam says, shaking his head. “You’re lucky you weren’t arrested!”

Gabriel smirks, “Please, I’d like to see them try.”

Sam shakes his head, trying to cover a laugh- but doesn’t say anything. Because he knows that Gabriel can most likely talk his way out of anything. And maybe that’s why he feels suddenly bitter as he watches the trickster walk off in front of him, one arm around his redheaded girlfriend.

Because Gabriel can do as he likes with Sam’s heart- but she’ll always be there, and Sam will always forgive him.

oOo

The first thing Bobby does on seeing where they’ll be staying for the next three days, is take off his cap and toss it to the ground. “Balls!” he shouts, over and over.

Pamela laughs. “Easy old man! You’ll pull something- I’m sure it’s nicer on the inside.”

“This is it,” Meg says, folding her arms. “This is where we die.”

“Don’t be so negative!” Gabriel replies with a grin. “I’m sure we’ll have the _time_ of our lives!” he throws his arms out, grinning. Meg rolls her eyes, turning away from him. Most of the group does the same, groaning and ignoring the pint-sized trickster.

Gabriel pouts. “Come on, guys! It’ll be fun. Guys? _Guys?”_

“Can it, idgjit, and get inside! Y’all need to pick a roomie.” Bobby says, pushing Gabriel forwards a little to usher him through the door, followed by the rest of the group.

“Girls and boys?” Gabriel asks, raising his eyebrows with a grin. Bobby sighs. “By this point, I don’t even care anymore.”  
Sam starts to feel that bitter, sinking feeling again as Anna laces her long pale fingers through Gabriel’s and can't help but assume what they’ll be getting up to for the next night days. And it hurts, surprisingly.

“You wanna room together, Sammy?” Dean asks, following his brothers gaze over to Gabriel, who now has other hand running up and down Anna’s side. Sam nods. “Yeah, uh, sure.”

They still haven’t really spoken about it. There was a week, of just them, together in that big old house before Bobby came to get them. A week of watching old home movies, and curling up together in the same bed, just needing the other for comfort.

Then, they had to move. Bobby was their only legal guardian, so they stay at Jo’s with her mom Ellen and Bobby. It’s weird, having Jo around all the time to tease them and bug them like the annoying little sister she always was- but that doesn’t mean it isn’t helpful.

The first night, Sam can’t sleep on his own- so in the night she slips into bed beside him, and she’s still there when he wakes up. But there’s something missing, that neither Jo or Dean could ever give him. There was just that warmth that radiated off of Gabriel every night, when he would roll over and wrap an arm around Sam’s wait, or when unconsciously, Sam would pull Gabriel into him in the middle of the night, nose resting against the back of his neck.

There are just things that aren’t the same when it’s your brother and practically your sister next to you in bed instead of _him._

But Sam shakes his head slightly, trying to shake all of the thoughts as Dean tugs at his arm, signalling they have to go.

Ooo

The corridor with their rooms gives as good of an impression as the ‘hotel’ itself gives, and a plump russian maid shows them the way.

“Uh, are their bathrooms?” Benny asks, eying his and Garths door warily. The woman laughs. “Bathroom? Communal bathroom, end of corridor.”

Jo’s mouth falls open, and Gabriel laughs. “Seriously? What about like showers and stuff?”

“Shower too. End of corridor.” the woman says, smile still plastered on her face. Jo groans, but Meg just shoves her into their room, opposite Garth and Benny’s as the woman exits the corridor.

Sam and Dean aren’t alone in their room for long after setting down their duffel bags, as Gabriel bounds inside, lollipop hanging out of his mouth. Dean rolls his eyes. “Haven’t you got anything- or any _one_ better to do?” he asks, sitting down on the squeaky single bed.

Gabriel flops down next to him, shrugging. “Anna’s gone to get drunk with Jo and Meg, whilst the night is young.”

“Drunk?” Dean asks “I thought we lost everything?”

Gabriel sighs. “Well, Pamela took our dope, probably to smoke herself-but Anna slipped a bottle of vodka out of the maid’s trolley. I did try and invite myself but, apparently it’s, ‘girls only’”

Sam frowns. “What do girls even do at those, anyway?”

“Who knows, Sammy?” Gabriel says, leaning back. “I dunno about you- but I’m hoping they get it on.” He shoots a wink towards Sam, who blushes.

Dean laughs. “Yeah, I doubt that.” He shakes his head. “But still- me and Sam don’t have anything so…” he shrugs.

Gabriel sits up, rolling his eyes. “Fine. I know when I’m not wanted- I'll see if Benny’s got any pairs of Jo’s panties to sniff.”

“You don’t have to g-” Sam begin to say, but Gabriel is already out of the door, nothing left but a candy wrapper.

Dean reaches into his duffel, pulling out a flask. He grins, taking a swig from it. “That’s some strong stuff.” He says, grimacing.

“What- where did you get that?” Sam asks. Dean smiles.

“I swiped it off of Bobby when we got here, duh, it’s his flask.” Dean takes another drink.

“Cut it out, Dean!” he says, glaring at his brother. Dean just takes another drink.

“So what, I can’t drink now? Really?”

“Well, considering our _dad_ just died because of it- no!” Sam shouts, reaching forwards to grab the flask out of Dean’s hands, but his brother dodges.

“Leave it Sammy!” he says, voice low and warning.

“No! I’m not just gonna do whatever it is you tell me-”

“Like hell you won't! I’m you’re older brother Sam, and I’m responsible for you. You do what I say- no questions asked.”

Sam chokes out a laugh, shaking his head. “You know- you sound just like dad.” He says, shaking his head. Dean’s grip tightens on the flask, knuckles turning white.

“You take that back.” He warns.

Sam’s eyes narrow. “No.”

Dean’s angry now, Sam can tell. His brother is like a firecracker. Like a sparked fuse. All you have to do is give him a little fire and he’ll explode.

“Dad’s gone Sammy! He’s gone, and there’s _nothing_ we can do about it- okay? So I'll do, what I _damn well_ please!” he hollers.

For once, Sam doesn’t shrink away from his brother’s harsh words. Because he can’t watch Dean turn into John, he _can’t_.

“No Dean! I can’t watch you turn into him! You spent you’re whole life, worshipping the ground that shipwreck of a man walked on, and now he’s gone you’re just gonna take his place?!”

His face burning red with anger, Dean takes another sip from the flask, draining its contents and tossing it to the floor. “Listen Sam, just because you’re _broken_ doesn’t mean I’ve gotta fix you. Not anymore.”

Dean regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. He wishes he’d never said them as he watches Sam’s face crumble slightly. “Fine.” His brother chokes out, turning to the door. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

“Sammy- Sam, wait!” Dean calls, but it’s too late. Sam is gone.

oOo

The stolen bottle of vodka is drained, and Meg is passed out on one of the twin beds. Jo never twigged her for a lightweight.

“I can’t believe she passed out!” she slurs, giggling slightly. Anna joins in. It’s weird, the two of them, talking again. She hadn’t spoken to Anna in so _fucking_ long.

The redhead lights up a cigarette, inhaling it harshly.

“He misses you, you know.” She says, flicking the ash onto the floor. Jo quietens, but Anna doesn’t notice. “Michael,” she clarifies, like Jo doesn’t already know who she means “He pretends he doesn’t care but- he still needs you, I think. He hasn’t spoken to Luc in months.”

Jo shivers when she hears his name.

“Have you spoken to him? To Lucifer?” she asks. Jo shakes her head, shoulders tense.

“He still talks about you sometimes too. Him and Michael rarely speak, but- when they do, it’s usually arguing. About you.”

“I’ve been trying to forget -about both of them, to be honest.” Jo admits, reaching for the cigarette carton and lighting her own up. Anna just giggles, flopping back on the bed.

“I guess everyone’s a cheater these days anyway.” She shrugs.

Jo sighs, moving to lay beside her. “True, I guess. Why are you even with Gabriel, anyway?” she asks. “I just don’t get it. You’ve got other guys that want you, and Gabriel’s just such a smarmy bastard.” She muses.

Anna smiles. “Yeah, he is but- I don’t know. It’s just, Gabriel could have any girl he wants. Or guy, for that matter, but he chooses me. Every time, he comes back to me. That must make me special, right?”

Jo shrugs. “I dunno, maybe.”

Anna sits up, and pushes the cigarette into a glass of water. “I think I’m gonna be with him forever.” She muses, before stumbling out of the door, her steps uneven.

“Oh,” she adds, sticking her head back through the door. “And remember, about Michael and Lucifer. Remember them.”

Jo sniffs, trying to hold back the tears that sting her eyes. “I will. I'll try.”

And after Anna’s gone, she can't help but remember the both of them. Nobody knows the story, not the full story anyway. Not really.

Everyone just assumed that Michael hit her, and she left. But what if that wasn’t the way things went?

She smokes her way through three cigarettes, before she can feel the second whim of the strong Russian vodka coursing through her veins. Suddenly, she can barely hold her tongue. She has to tell someone.

Jo loves Dean, more than he could love any other boy. When she was younger, she had had the hugest crush on him, but now- it’s more of a brotherly type thing. But still, he’s probably the person she trusts the most. She’s gotta tell him.

With one last glance to Meg, who snores silently on the bed, Jo slips out of the bedroom, and pads to the end of the corridor.

oOo

She knows Dean’s been drinking by the slight slur in his words and the strength of his breath as he greets her at the door. A chair in the corner has been smashed, and Sam is nowhere to be seen, which must mean the Winchester’s had a fight.

She stumbles into Dean’s arms, fresh tears threatening to fall out of her eyes. “What’s up, Joanna Beth?” Dean asks, struggling to keep them both upright as he guides her to the bed.

 It’s a game they would always play as kids. A code, to let the other know they were okay.  Dean would ask, ‘what’s up Joanna Beth’ and she’d roll her eyes, and reply ‘The sky, dumbass’

They’d been doing it since they were kids.

But this time, Jo doesn’t reply. And Dean isn’t too drunk to notice.

She whimpers slightly, and his grip around her tightens, as he pulls her into an embrace, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Oh Dean, I messed it all up so bad.” She whispers.

“Messed what up?” He asks, running a hand through her blonde hair, rocking them both slightly. His mom used to do the same to him when he was younger, if he’d scraped his knee or bumped his head. She’d rock him gently, until he could practically feel his wound healing, just by the magic in the light behind her eyes.

“I lied.” Jo sniffs, shaking her head, hands balling into fists. “About Michael, I _lied._ ”

“Lied about what? That douche Michael? I told you to forget about him Jo-”

Still she shakes her head. “No, no, no! _I_ lied- it was me, it was my fault!”

“I don’t understand?” Dean whispers, gripping her chin slightly as she pulls away from him, causing her to look in his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“It was me,” Jo sobs out, her face crumbling. And Dean knows it’s serious, because Joanna Beth Harvelle doesn’t cry. Not ever. “When I  as with Michael- I met Anna. She’s his sister, and he had a brother too, named Lucifer.”

Something twists inside Dean’s gut, because what are the odds of having two guys in the same area with a name like _Lucifer_?

“I-I cheated on Michael, with Lucifer. When uh,” she laughs slightly, breathlessly. “When I disappeared for that week- we ran away together. We were gonna be together forever. But then, Lucifer he- he changed… he wasn’t sweet, and kind anymore. He hit me, Dean, and he kept hitting me- and I didn't know what to do. So I ran away from him, and tried to tell Michael but- he didn't understand. He thought that I had just slept with his brother- he didn't know about… but he dumped me, and I didn't know what to do- so when I came back I told everyone it was Michael because, because I didn't want anyone to think I was a slut!” she sobbed, head smashing into Dean’s shoulder. “And I’m _so sorry._ ”

Memories hit Dean with force, of the week Jo went missing. They all assumed she ran off with her boyfriend Michael, and he’ll never forget the look on Bobby’s face, as he continuously paced up and down the hallways, praying for the girl he considered a daughter.

It wasn’t until Jo came limping back to his house in the middle of the night a week later, when she came to him and said Michael had hurt her. He kept her hidden for a few days, so she could heal up before he forced her to go home.

He had had no idea.

“Sh, it’s not your fault- Jo, it’s not,” he says, as soothingly as he can, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

And then it hits him. Her name ringing in his ears and through his mind as clear as the bell at the church where his father was buried. _Castielle._

She’s with Lucifer, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can let her.

oOo

Hesitantly, Sam knocks on Gabriel’s door. He didn't want to do this- didn't want to stoop this low and go crawling back to the guy he was so obviously in love with, who had a girlfriend but- there was no way he was going back to Dean, and it was _so_ cold outside.

Gabriel answers straight away, of course, and grins. “Samsquatch, good! I was getting bored!” he says, stepping sideways to let Sam through. Sam notices Anna, passed out on one of the twin beds, arm across her eyes. He raises an eyebrow, and Gabriel laughs.

“Yeah, she stumbled in here about twenty minutes ago, drunk off her ass- kissed me and then passed out on the bed. I was starting to consider doing _math_ or something, because everyone else is asleep.”

“Oh,” Sam says, moving to sit beside Gabriel. “Do you uh, mind if I stay here, tonight? Everyone else is asleep.”

“Of course I don’t mind.” Gabriel replies, voice genuine for once. “Why, did you and Dean-o fight?”

Sam nods. “Yeah.”

“What about?”

Sam sighs. “It doesn’t matter.”

Gabriel stands up, sparing a glance to Anna as he walks across the room. “We could get it on, if you want,” he suggests with a coy smile. “Poor girls totally out of it- she’s so wasted.”

Sam stands, sighing as he walks towards Gabriel. “Gabe, you’ve gotta stop fucking around.” He says.

“Who says I’m fucking around- I just wanna take your mind off things.” He says, and the sincerity in his voice and in his eyes, shocks Sam.

“Gabe, we-”

“Sh,” Gabriel says, a finger to his lips. He tiptoes up slightly, leaning into Sam. “I dare you.”

Sam doesn’t reply, shocked. _Does Gabriel really mean…?_ But he couldn’t, right? Because Gabriel had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who was asleep right behind him.

But then Gabriel is slipping his T-shirt off of his head and Sam’s breath hitches. Gabriel tiptoes, and Sam leans his head down, the two meeting in the middle for a kiss.

Sam lets Gabriel guide him, as he slowly lifts Sam’s arms and pulls his t-shirt over his head. He can’t actually reach all the way up, so Sam’ has to break the kiss for a second, pulling the shirt over his head.

Now they are both shirtless- skin pressing to skin and Gabriel is kissing him again, as he looped his finger’s in Sam’s belt loops.

Sam thinks Gabriel tastes like candy canes and vodka.

He detaches from Sam’s mouth, moving down to kiss across his neck, and down to his chest, tongue flicking out briefly to meet his nipple, causing Sam to gasp out a moan.

“Sh, Sam, we need to be quiet.” Gabriel warns in a whisper, quickly making work of Sam’s jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling the zip down.

“What do you want from me?” Sam whispers through the darkness.

“Nothing,” Gabriel says, shaking his head. “I just wanna take care of you.”

Sam’s jeans pool at his ankles, quickly followed by his boxers as Gabriel starts to work on him with his hand, before slowly sinking to his knees, applying light kisses across Sam’s abdomen.

The Winchester’s breath hitches again, and he breathes out a moan of Gabriel’s name as the trickster takes him in his mouth. As he leaves reality, and lets himself get taken over by the pleasure and satisfaction of something he had wanted for _so long_ , Sam fails to notice Anna’s eyes peel open.

She frowns, watching them both, tears just beginning to form.

oOo

The plane journey home is very, _very_ different.

They are mostly silent, all of them, as the aeroplane soars through the clouds, leaving the shittiest school trip any of them have ever been on. Gabriel slouches in his seat, eyebrows furrowed. Anna sits beside him, but her gaze is out of the window.

He glances over to Sam, who is staring at him from his seat next to Meg, who is sleeping off her hangover. But then, he’s doing the puppy dog thing and Gabriel has to rip his eyes away before he stands up and announces how much he loves the moose to the whole damn plane.

“Gabriel,” Anna says quietly, gaining his attention. “Do you have something you wanna tell me?” she asks.

“Uh, I like your hair?” Gabriel says, but he’s obviously distracted, his focus far from the conversation. Maybe if it was, he would have noticed the glazed look in her eye. “Your top’s nice?” he tries again, but she sighs, shaking her head. “I love you? Any of those?”

“No.” she sighs, but Gabriel ignores her turning his gaze to the seat in front of him, a frown on his face.

Because he thinks he might have fucked everything up.


	6. Anna, Sam and Gabriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is the boy made out of gold. Confessions are made. (Mainly a filler before the big drama next chapter (only two more chapters to go!))

Everyone is at the field that particular morning. Gone is the morbid feel of death and sadness, and for once, everyone is actually happy.

Except for Anna.

She sits alone, a slight distance away watching the others. She watches Benny flirting with Jo, Garth and Dean tossing a football, Meg being snarky and sarcastic, rolling her eyes and making fun of them.

And then there’s Sam and Gabriel.

A cigarette hangs out of Sam’s mouth, a habit he has picked up off of Dean over the past few weeks, and he laughs as Dean trips Garth over, Gabriel approaching behind him.

Sam sits cross legged on the ground, and Gabriel runs over, kneeling behind him. He dips his head into the Winchester’s shoulder, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and inhaling, whispering in Sam’s ear as he did so. Sam laughs.

Anna has had enough. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly for a moment, willing herself not to cry. She won’t let Gabriel make a fool out of her. Not again.

She stands, and marches over to the group of friends. None of them notice her, of course, all too busy laughing and joking and smoking. Anna has never had proper friends like that before. Her brothers have always been much too protective.

“Hey babe, you okay?” Gabriel asks as he noticed the redhead stalking towards them, fire in her eyes. It infuriates her how he had just kept going around, pretending nothing had even happened every day for the past week.

Anna’s fist jabs forwards, connecting with Gabriel’s nose. Dean barks out a laugh, Garth and Benny joining in- but Sam’s expression remains one of pure shock.

“You lying little asshole! I never want to see your fucking face or you're fucking cock again you dick!”

Gabriel presses a hand to his face, but still smirks. “What’s up, red?”

Anna lurches forwards, kneeing him in the balls. Gabriel crashes to the ground, and Dean moves forwards. “Whoa, Anna, that’s enough!” he calls, but nobody can hear him as Anna continues to yell:

“I gave you time to tell me, but you never did! Time’s up you complete and utter ass!”

And with that she marches away. Meg crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Jesus, what’s got her panties in a twist?” she asks, watching Anna storm off.

Jo scowls at Gabriel, who is crumpled on the floor, Sam crouched beside him. “What have you done this time, asshole?” she asks. Gabriel provides no answer except for a low moan, so her honey brown eyes glance around the group. “Dean?” she tries.

“I don’t fucking know!” Dean exclaims. Jo groans.

“For Christ’s sake!” she mutters, rolling herb eyes before turning and running in the other direction, away from the group.

“She’s spunky. I like her.” Meg comments with a grin. She ignores the glares shot at her.

“Uh, Gabe, shouldn’t you- uh, go after her?” Sam asks, as Gabriel clambers to his feet.

Gabriel shrugs, smirking. “She’ll come back.”

oOo

“Anna! Anna what happened?!” Jo calls as she races after Anna, who is walking at a quick pace down the field.

“Never mind!” She yells back, voice thick with unshed tears.

“Never fucking mind? What’s wrong, did he screw someone again?”

Anna stops dead in her tracks, allowing Jo to catch up. “Again?!” she sobs. Jo is quiet, glancing down at the floor. _Did Anna not know about those?_

“Uh- I thought you knew?”

“Who? Who did he screw since he’s been with me?!” Anna tries to yell, but it comes out more like a sob.

Jo swallows. “Uh, that girl Kali, Mags, Earl, black Justine, some guy named Balthazar and his sister, Abigail. Oh, and his other sister- I think her name was Bela.”

“Abigail? But- he promised me he hadn’t!” she cries. “Why didn't you tell me, if you're supposed to be my friend?”

“I thought you knew! It’s just Gabe, isn’t it- you know what he’s like… but he always comes back to you- you said it yourself!”

Anna’s gaze hardens, as she furiously wipes a tear from her cheek. “Did you screw him?” she asks voice hard.

Jo frowns incredulously. “What? No, why would I do that?!”

“I bet you wanted to fuck him though, didn't you- like the little home wrecker you are!” Anna spits. “You fucked up both my brother’s so much that they won't even talk to each other- and you fucking lied saying Michael hurt you! You bitch!” she shouts.

“Hey, just shut up about Michael and Lucifer,” Jo chokes, her voice quieter. “I-I didn't mean for it to happen- and I didn't fuck Gabe, I wouldn’t.”

Anna pushes past her, walking away. “Don’t ever fucking speak to me again.” She mutters.

Jo just stands and watches her walk away.

OoO

Anna makes it all the way over to a tree on the other side of the field, and sinks down against it, her head in her hands. It isn’t long until she hears footsteps approaching behind her.

“Anna?”

It’s Sam’s voice, quiet and gentle as he crouches in front of her. Anna peels open her eyes and scowls.

“Go away.” She mutters, turning her head. But Sam looks worried, not angry.

“Please don’t tell anyone- everyone will think-” he begins to plead, but Anna cuts him off, a vacant expression on her face as she turns and glares at the boy.

“Think what, Sam? That you’re a dirty little slut who fucks around with other peoples boyfriends?” she spits. Sam visibly flinches at her words.

“I-I'm sorry,” He stutters. “I didn't mean for it to happen, we just-”

“Go away. Please.” She sighs, shaking her head.

Sam sighs, and stands up; turning and heading away from Anna, back towards his friends. Gabriel is a dick, and the sad thing it- he’s almost glad. He’s glad that Anna found out.

He's glad that they broke up.

He just wishes he didn't have to feel so guilty about it.

oOo

  
Later on in class, Anna is nowhere to be seen. History is the groups only shared class together, and they all sit around on the little tables, as Pamela stands in front of the class, a stony expression on her face.

“So,” she glares pointedly in Gabriel’s direction. “Which one of you little assholes made lovely Anna so upset today?”

Nobody utters a word. Gabriel glances towards Sam from his permanent seat at the back of the class. The boy has his fists clenched, and his eyes towards his lap.

“Was it you, shortstack?” she asks, strutting forwards slightly and leaning on a table as she moved her glare across the classroom to Gabriel. He frowns. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

Pamela scoffs, and the class falls silent again. Sam’s fingers clench even tighter, as Anna’s words ring in his ears. Dean shoots a worried glance towards his brother, but it is too late.

Word vomit.

“It’s all my fault.”

Pamela raises an eyebrow, surprised. Meg sits forwards in her seat opposite Sam, a devilish smile on her lips with her fingers laced together.

“Do go on.” Pamela says voice heavy with attitude. Gabriel holds his breath, praying the moose wouldn’t say anything. But slowly, Sam rises out of his seat to his full towering height, eyes downcast to the table.

“I got off with Gabe on the Russia trip.”

Several people in the class gasp. Dean’s eyes widen.  Jo shoots a glare towards Gabriel.

“I only did it because I- I don’t know why but I was just in his room and, and we were talking and. I only did it because we thought Anna had passed out after all the vodka she drank with Jo and-”

“Don’t bring me into this, asshole!” Jo calls from the back.

“-I didn't mean anything by it. But I guess I lost my head, and then he gave me head. And then the class got sent back from Russia and I’m really really sorry for being such a slut okay?”

The class is silent. Pamela arches an eyebrow. “You done?” she asks, but you can almost see the smirk on her face. Bobby owes her twenty bucks.

Sheepishly, Sam nods, not daring to glance at Gabriel as he sits back down in his seat.

Pamela eyes the class. “Anything else anyone would like to share?” she asks.

Dean bolts up, a sudden surge of courage coursing through him. “I think I’m in love with C-”

“Not literally, moron.” Pamela snaps. Blushing, Dean sinks back into his seat.

Sam glances at his brother, raising an eyebrow. Dean just shakes his head.

“Right. Turn your textbooks to page forty-”

Then Jo herself emerges up out of her seat, fire hot in her eyes as she stalks towards Gabriel, clocking him straight in the face.

“I needed that.” He mutters, as Dean lurches forwards, grabbing the blonde by her wrists.

Sam stands, perplexed for a moment like a rabbit caught in headlights, before he darts to the door, closing it shut behind him with a bang and a click.

The room falls silence again, nobody even daring to breathe. Pamela sits against the table, eyes trained on every member of the class at once, anticipating their next move.

“I-I” Gabriel stammers, his own golden eyes wide as saucers. He can’t even finish his sentence before he takes off in a run after Sam, slipping through the door.

Jo slinks back in her seat, and Dean slides in beside her. Pamela shakes her head before turning back to the textbook in her hand. Dean can vaguely hear her talking about page numbers. But he isn’t listening.

“He’s an asshole but-he cares, doesn’t he? About Sam?” Jo asks, turning to her pseudo-brother. Dean shakes out of his thoughts of pale girls with blue eyes and black hair. He sighs.

“Yeah, I think he really does.”

Because Gabriel’s a dick, but deep down…. Dean knows that he’d do anything for Sam.

oOo

“Sam! Sam wait!” Gabriel calls, panting as he races across the field outside their college. _Damn_ , Sam is fast.

“Leave me alone!” Sam calls back, as he keeps on running like it’s all he's worth.

“Never!” Gabriel shouts back. Sam stills stopping and turning as he watches Gabriel race down the field towards him. His lip quiver slightly as he shakes his head, “You’re such an idiot.”

It comes out quieter than he wants it too, but soon, Gabriel is in front of him, breath heaving. Sam slinks down on a bench to his left.

“You’re just a complete asshole!” he continues, as Gabriel slinks next to him, chest heaving. He gives the trickster a minuet to get his breath back, watching as dark clouds form in the sky.

There's going to be another storm tonight. Nothing good happened the last time they had a storm.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

Sam shakes his head, hoping that Gabriel can’t tell that he’s about to cry. “Bullshit.” He mutters. Gabriel says nothing, eyes trained to the floor as the first drops of rain begin to fall. Sam looks up to the boy on his left. The boy who thinks he’s made of gold.

Maybe he is.

“Tell me you love me.” Sam says. He doesn’t really know where it’s come from, but as soon as he says it, he knows he needs to hear it.

“Sam,” Gabriel sighs. “You know how I feel about you.”

Sam doesn’t look at him. He stands, fists clenching. If Gabriel doesn’t love him, that’s fine. At least he knows now.

He continues walking down the grass path, ignoring Gabriel calling out his name as the rain gets heavier, even though the sun still shines.

He keeps going until he hears it.

“I love you, Sam Winchester!”

It’s a shout, and as Sam turns he realise Gabriel is stood up on the bench. And it’s like the heavens have opened because the rain just keeps falling, and Gabriel’s blonde hair turns dark and sticks to his forehead.

“I’m sorry, but I do! I do love you Sam!”

“Really?” Sam asks.

Gabriel nods, and hops down from the bench. He moves forwards and so does Sam. They meet in the middle somewhere. Always meeting in the middle right up until now, when Sam is the one to lean down first, pushing his face into Gabriel’s. Their lips meet hastily, and Gabriel smiles through the kiss.

Sam pulls back, and wipes some of his wet hair out of his face.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” Sam says, turning to walk away with the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“I'll call you tonight!” Gabriel calls back, as the rain pours heavier around them. And for one single second, everything is perfect.

oOo

Dean doesn’t know where the fuck Sam is, but he's assuming he’s with Gabriel. And as much as he worries about his brother every single night he’s alone, Dean can’t quite bring himself to call. Because Sam’s with Gabriel, which means he’s the safest he could possibly be.

Things still aren’t quite right between the brothers since their fight in Russia. Dean emptied all the alcohol in the house, smashing the bottles up and recycling them. Sam smiled.

They both knew that the other was sorry for everything they said, but neither of them had really spoken about it yet. Yet, Sam was happy. Because they were brothers, and they always made up, right?

Still, Dean can’t help but wonder as he drives to the Novak house what Sam would think if he found out Dean’s dirty little secret regarding Gabriel’s little sister.

He approaches the door, trying to ignore the hard rain hitting his back in his thin flannel shirt. She still has his leather jacket.

He just needs to see her, and sends out a silent prayer that nobody else is home as he rings the doorbell.

The odds are, however, not in his favour.

Chuck answers the door, stubble gone way past a five o’clock shadow and hovering more dangerously into the Santa Claus territory. He looks tired and about ten years older than he should do. The bags under his eyes are heavy, and a pencil is tucked behind his ear.

“Gabriel’s not home.” He mutters, before moving to close the door. Dean places his hand on it, stopping him.

“Actually I-”

“Didn't you hear me, moron? Gabe’s not home, now get lost. I’m trying to finish my manuscript, Becky’s making crochet pillow covers and poor Castielle is trying to finish her homework.”

Dean gazes past Chuck, staring through the house into the kitchen, where she sits. However, her concentration isn’t on the paper. She’s staring at him.

She looks so much younger in her dreary catholic school uniform, her hair pulled tightly back into a ponytail, face free from makeup.

“-Hey, buddy? You even listening?  I said get lost!” Chuck snaps, before catching dean off guard as the door clicks shut. Dean rings again, but all he gets is a deathly stare from Chuck through the living room window.

Sighing Dean turns back to his car. he pulls his phone out of his pocket, firing off a quick text.

_To: Jailbait_

_Subject:_

_We need 2 talk. Youre not safe with lucifer._

His phone beeps a few seconds later.

_From: Jailbait_

_Subject:_

_I can handle myself Dean. I don’t need you._

Dean can't bring himself to call, so he quickly types three words back as a reply, before tossing his phone into the backseat.

**_I need you._ **


	7. Castielle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything's about Gabriel's mysterious little sister who creeps out into the night. Revelations are made, and truths come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go!!

_“…blessed are those who can give without remembering. And take without forgetting. Amen.”_

“Amen.” Becky repeats, as Chuck stands, moving around to the front of the small table. On either side of him, his children, Castielle opposite Gabriel. Chuck stands opposite Becky. He shakes his head, smiling.

“Thank you all, for the wonderful day but, uh, this is the best present I could have. A nice family meal.” Chuck says, shooting a smile towards Cas. She doesn’t look up. Gabriel smirks.

“A, uh, chance to have a bit of quality time.” Chuck continues.

 Becky smiles, looking at both of her step-children. “Aw, isn’t that lovely?”

Neither replies, as Chuck whirrs up the carver, smiling to himself. “You know, this reminds me of…”

Castielle tunes out to her dad’s voice. She can still hear it, droning on and on, with the occasional half-laugh from Becky, and snarky remark from her brother.

But she doesn’t participate. She never usually does, as dinner-time conversation is hardly the most stimulating thing, but tonight, her mind is even more distracted than usual.

Dean. Lucifer. Crowley.

She knows that she’s supposed to love Lucifer, because he’s the kind of guy she deserves- but then there’s Dean. Dean Winchester, With his sparkling green eyes, and his goofy smile and his ability to make her come undone.

Nobody’s ever fucked her like Dean has. She wonders if it’s even called _fucking_ , what her and Dean do together.

Her thoughts continue to wander, until she looks up and locks eyes with her brother, who sticks his tongue out at her. She smiles.

Chuck’s face goes redder, looking back up to his son. “I mean, what is _so_ sexy about thighs?!”

Castielle has no idea what the context is, but smirks to herself as Chuck slams his fist down on the table.

“Chuck, uh, not in front of Castielle, yeah?” Becky warns him. He takes in a deep breath, before moving back to carving the meat.

“What would everyone like?” he asks, through gritted teeth.

Gabriel smirks. “I’d like a bit of thigh please, dad.”

oOo

“No, not yet! Did I say to do it yet!?” Chuck snaps at Becky, eyes locked on the game board. Gabriel sits in the corner of the sofa, smirking at his phone. Cas can tell by the look on his face he’s texting Dean’s brother, Sam.

“Look Chuck, Castielle’s rolled a five!” she says, pointing to the board. Cas doesn’t turn her glance from the TV. It doesn’t matter that she isn’t really watching it, and the screen is just a blur.

“Oh, right, well- good. Uhm, we’ll treat that as your go, Cas. We’ll say that’s a five so,” he begins to unfold out the extensive rules sheet from a game Cas can’t quite remember the name of.

 “I can’t understand these rules. They translated them from Korean!” he sighs.

“Uh, Chuck- maybe we just shouldn’t play a game?” Becky suggests, playing with her hair nervously.

Chuck folds the paper back together, fingers gripped tightly at the edges. “Fine. Fucking fine!” he snaps. “fucking, fucking fine,” he mutters to himself, stuffing the wrinkled sheet of paper back into the game box. “So what shall we do then, shall we just sit?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Becky says. “Let’s just sit. I'll see if I can find some nice cookies!” she says, standing and excusing herself to the kitchen. Once the living room door clicks shut, Chuck lets out a sigh.

“I hate it when your mother’s like this.”

“Not our mother.” Gabriel deadpans, but doesn’t tear his eyes from his phone. Castielle smirks to herself, but stays silent.

oOo

Flicking the lighter on comes naturally to her. The plastic red game piece sits in a small dish with some candles, and just begins to melt as she holds the flame close to it. It’s almost peaceful, watching things burn.

It catches alight, and she leaves it a few seconds before blowing it out, picking it up from the plate with the other candles. She puts the burnt piece in her box of things she’d prefer to keep hidden, and slips it into the back of her wardrobe.

Her phone beeps, and she pulls it out, hoping it isn’t another text or call from Dean. It’s not, and she almost feels disappointed.

_From: Lucifer_

_Subject:_

_Come and see me. Bring a friend if you’d like._

_We’ll be at the shipping warehouse where Alastair work(ed). Wear something pretty ;)_

She replies to the text with a quick _Okay._ And sends another message off to a girl named Daisy to meet her. She wouldn’t really consider Daisy her friend- really more of a person she sometimes hangs around with in school, so she doesn’t look lonely.

She pulls some clothes out of her wardrobe, changing quickly before packing up the game box, and heading back down the stairs, her dressing gown pulled tightly around her.

Chuck and Becky are lounging together on the sofa, Becky deeply engrossed in some sci-fi show. Chuck isn’t really paying attention, and glances up to Cas as she walks into the room.

“Any luck with it?” he asks, nodding to the game. Castielle shakes her head, and Chuck lets out a sigh. “Never mind. Goodnight dear.”

She waits a few seconds outside the living room door, furthering the illusion that she has returned upstairs. Then, with a final glance to the room, she tiptoes down the hallway, opens up the front door, and steps out into the night.

She shrugs off her dressing gown, stuffing it into a bag she keeps by the wall of her front garden, revealing a grey top with cut-outs at the back, her black bra _just_ visible underneath. As she glances down at herself, she remembers it’s the same one that she wore for _him_. For _Dean._

She wiggles out of her pyjama bottoms, and buttons up her denim shorts, before slipping on her trusty red converse. Finally, she pulls her hair out of the ponytail, and runs her fingers through it. Makeup will have to wait until she meets Daisy.

Gabriel watches his sister from his bedroom window, as she walks down the street and into the night. She’s clever, hopelessly so, and he smirks.

He pulls out his phone, dialling Sam’s number. Sam picks up almost immediately, and Gabriel can almost hear the smile in his voice.

“Just couldn’t keep away, right Gabe?”

“Shut up,” Gabriel says, but he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “What’s everyone doing tonight?” he asks, standing up from his bed and tiptoeing across the landing to Castielle’s room.

“Uh, Jo’s grounded, Garth’s on official curfew at the campus, Benny’s away with his parents, and nobody’s heard anything from Meg in a while, but me and Dean were just gonna stay in, you know? Video games and stuff.”

Gabriel groans into the phone as he fishes under Cas’ pillow for her stripy sock. “Boring.” He snaps, as he pulls it over his foot, and gets into her bed. “Hold on a second.”

He covers the phone with his hand as he hears footsteps coming towards the room. He throws the duvet over himself, leaving just his foot hanging out. The door creaks open.

“…Dad’s always check up on our baby girls, that’s just what we do!”

“Look, she’s asleep. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Bed? But it’s early! Does CSI Miami mean _anything_ to you?!”

Becky sighs, and Gabriel cringes as he hears her fingers run up Chucks’ shirt. “But, I don’t think I've given you my birthday present yet…”

This is followed by some awful giggling that makes Gabriel want to throw up, followed by shuffling feet and the door shutting.

“I _need_ to get out of here.” Gabriel mutters into the phone.

Sam sighs. “Sorry Gabe, but we’re just staying in. I'll text you, okay?”

“Dirty texts?” Gabriel asks, smirking. Sam just chuckles.

“If you’re lucky.”

oOo

“I wasn’t really sure what to wear! You wouldn’t believe I borrowed this shirt from my mom!”

Oh, Castielle remembers why she didn't consider Daisy her friend. The girl never stops speaking.

Castielle just slouches back in her seat on the bus, only half paying attention to what Daisy is saying. She glances in her mirror, applying her trademark dark eyeliner, before snapping the compact shut.

Daisy continues, oblivious to her lack of interest. Castielle pulls out her lighter, and flicks it on, waving it across the plastic arch of the chair in front of her.

“-But you know, I don’t think my mom went to that many orgies in the eighties!”

Castielle still isn’t listening, but she can feel eyes on her. She glances across the bus to an old man, sitting on one of the side seats, glaring at the two of them. Castielle smirks at him, licking her lips. Her hand moves over to Daisy’s thigh, and slips upwards in the direction of her skirt.

The man’s face turns to one of shock and horror, and Daisy squeals beside her. “Cas! Don’t, he’s gross!” she laughs.

Cas just lets out a breathy laugh as the bus approaches their stop, standing up from her seat. Daisy follows her off of the bus, through the alleyway round the back of the warehouse that Lucifer showed her, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it between her lips.

“I’m a bit scared. Are you scared, Cas? I keep tasting sick in my mouth! I think it’s because I'm excited. And nervous. Do you ever get that?”

Castielle just takes a drag of her cigarette, letting the smoke flow down her throat and into her lungs. She had considered giving up, not that she’ll admit it was due to Dean’s influence, but it’s one of the few things her and Lucifer have in common.

A humid wind blows across them both, blowing Daisy’s brown mass of curls all in front of her face, sticking to her thick makeup. She continues talking about sick, or hiccups- Cas isn’t really sure, as she leads her up a ramp, to the back door.

She presses the buzzer firmly, and barely five seconds later, the door swings open. Lucifer smirks.

“Glad you could make it. Come on.” He says, nodding towards the inside. Cas had almost forgotten how handsome he was. His face was defined, in all its own ways- but his jaw softer than Dean’s. His eyes were a clear icy blue that rivalled her own, and his hair was light blonde, obviously tinted. His build was similar to Dean’s in height, but he wasn’t quite as toned, a little softer around the edges. Still, Lucifer was easily one of the most handsome people she’s ever been with.

It’s dark, but Cas isn’t scared of the dark. She isn’t scared of anything. She can feel Lucifer’s heavy hand on the small of her back, leading her through the hallway.

“And you brought a friend. wonderful.” He says, but the sincerity is severely lacking in his voice. Thankfully, Daisy isn’t analytical enough to notice.

“Hiya. I'm Daisy!” she exclaims, waving her hand in front of Lucifer’s face. He stops, and catches her wrist, squeezing just tight enough to make her body go rigid.

“Nice to meet you. Daisy.”

His voice is cold, and for the first time ever- Castielle is seeing Daisy speechless. And this is the real side of Lucifer. He’s handsome, but he’s ugly, his eyes too cold, hair to bright. And there’s something about the way he smiles, that just makes Castiel’s entire body go numb, and her heart beat faster.

Daisy’s mouth stay’s shut as Lucifer types in a code, and the shutter doors to the main area of the warehouse creak open.

“It’s Alistair’s last day. They laid him off, so we’re getting some, uh, compensation.” Is all he says. Daisy’s eyes narrow, but Cas stays silent. Knowing Lucifer, something exciting will happen within seconds. With Lucifer, it was all or nothing. No in-between. Some days he would be cold, and distant, snapping at her for everything. Other days, he'd be so gentle with her. She doesn’t know which version scares her more.

“So this is it, really?” Daisy asks, frowning. Lucifer just smirks, and suddenly, all at once, the warehouse is alive. Boys and girls that Cas vaguely recognise, dressed in black, wearing colourful masks- skidding around on trolleys, looting through boxes.

They all look so ridiculous, creating their own version of anarchy, that Cas starts to laugh. Lucifer joins in, and so does Daisy, as the lights flicked on, through the dusty room.

Some of them even start driving on Segway’s, and soon enough, Crowley pulls in on one, stopping just short of their little huddle. Castielle sighs, because of course- Lucifer can’t go anywhere without his guard dog. Cas thinks, if Crowley was a dog, he'd be an old English bulldog. Short, and stout, but powerful- intimidating, even.

Crowley smiles, eyes narrow. “Evening, Castielle. Who’s your friend.”

Daisy grins. “Hi, I'm Daisy! Wow! You’re _Crowley!”_

Crowley raises an eyebrow, glancing towards Lucifer, but doesn’t say anything.

“The one and the same, darling. I was wondering, if you ladies fancied a ride?”

Daisy nods excitedly, but Castielle says nothing, crossing her arms slightly. “Come on, Cas, don’t be shy. I know how chatty you can get when you want to.”

“Yeah. sure.” Castielle breathes out. Apparently, her discomfort remains oblivious to Lucifer, who whistles for Azazel to bring a Segway to him.

“After you, m’lady”

OoO

It’s nice, riding through the warehouse. Lucifer’s lips travel up and down her skin, as she steers through the makeshift corridors. It’s humid in the warehouse, so the breeze blowing in her face makes her feel a lot more relaxed.

“Glad you're having fun.” Lucifer mutters as he presses a light kiss to her ear. His arms are tight around her waist, but somehow it just feels wrong. He doesn’t hold her like Dean does.

And there he is again. Dean. Dean. Dean.

“What was that? Which Dean?” he asks, and Castielle scolds herself.

“It’s nothing.” She mumbles.

Lucifer’s breath is hot against her ear. “You haven’t still been seeing that pretty _Winchester_ since we got together, have you, love?” he asks. His tone is warm, but his words hold threats.

“No.” Castielle shakes her head, her chest tightening. “Not at all.” She lies.

“Promise? You know I hate it when you lie to me, sweetheart.” He breathes, his breath causing goose-bumps to run down the expanse of her shoulder. She swallows, collecting herself.

“I promise.”

OOo

It’s her idea, not his, to sit in the swing attached to the roof. It’s generally used for lifting heavy objects across the warehouse, but it doesn’t take much for Azazel and Alastair to pull it down long enough for Cas and Lucifer to slip in.

They’re so high up, Cas feels like she’s flying, her arms out behind her, dark hair flowing. She tilts her head back and uses her momentum to swing them both through the air.

Even Lucifer’s laughing now, his hips shaking, pressed against hers. He touches her chin, gaining her attention, before sticking his tongue out at her. On it, sits an orange pill that Cas doesn’t recognise.

Still she takes it between her fingers, before leaning down to kiss him. It’s all wet and tongues, and nothing like the tender kisses she’s experienced with Dean as she swallows down the orange pill, mixed in with Lucifer’s saliva. She can tell he wants more by the way his hips press harder into hers, but the moment is cut short by the blaring sounds of alarms raining through the warehouse, accompanied with a symphony of police sirens outside.

“It’s the fucking cops!” Lucifer laughs, running a hand through Cas’ hair. “How do you fancy a joint cell?” he asks.

Castielle just leans in to kiss him again, the two of them swinging through the air, as cops enter the warehouse, and the chaos ends.

oOo

Gabriel does feel somewhat lonely as he sits by the river bank, puffing on probably his third cigarette of the night. He knows that Sam needs his brotherly bonding time with Dean and whatever, but he couldn’t stand to sit and listen to Chuck and Becky do it through the all-to-thin walls of the house.

His phone rings, and he glances at it, hoping to see the name ‘SAMSQUATCH’ appear on the screen, but it doesn’t. The number is one he doesn’t recognise.

“Hello?” he answers, voice hesitant.

“Hello. This is police sergeant Bill Huges. Am I speaking to Gabriel Novak?”

oOo

“Sioux Falls sherrif’s department, how can I help you?” asks the woman in the booth, her hair is short and brown, and a shiny golden badge sits on her chest.

“Uh, I’m here to pick up Castielle Novak. She's been arrested.”

“Oh, yes- well you’ve just missed her, I’m afraid.” The woman says. Gabriel frowns. “Her brother’s picked her up already.”

“But- I’m her brother?”

“Her other brother.”

“I’m her _only_ brother.”

The sheriff sighs, in a way that makes Gabriel think she's probably had this conversation countless times before. “Well, her boyfriend, _pretending_ to be her brother’s picked her up all ready, okay? She just left, with a British lad, sharply dressed?”

Gabriel feels the anger boil up inside of him. _Crowley._

OoO

“Ladies your carriage awaits!” Lucifer calls theatrically, as he opens the door into the navy blue van. Castielle climbs inside, oblivious to the small figure of her brother, running behind them.

“Cassie! Cas!” he calls, before something firm hits him in his side. Gabriel falls to the floor, and the offender cycles away quickly, as the van pulls away from the curve. “Cas!” Gabriel wheezes, but it’s too late.

She’s already gone.

The atmosphere inside the van is high. The four of them, Crowley, Cas, Lucifer and Daisy sit inside, laughing. Lucifer pulls out a glass pipe from his pocket, pulling something green out of his bag and sprinkling it in.

“That was amazing!” Daisy laughs.

“Unexpected but fun.” Lucifer admits, holding the pipe to Cas’ mouth.

“You’re so lucky, Cas! Remember when I tried to get arrested for kissing that police officer, remember that? Normally I’d be with her- we’re always getting into trouble together! Aren’t we, Cas?”

Lucifer laughs as he turns his blowtorch lighter into the pipe. “Does she ever shut up?” he whispers

Castielle just focuses on inhaling, the white smoke flowing through her sinuses. It’s unlike anything she’s ever taken before, and she can't help but wonder if that really was just weed Lucifer had put in there. But then, she smoke clouds her mind and she doesn’t care anymore, and laughs as the van hits over a speed bump, making them all tumble.

Lucifer takes a hit himself, before offering it to Crowley, who refuses. The two men lock eyes, an unspoken agreement between them, but Cas is to high to pay much notice. She’s usually so perceptive, but her vision is contorting, twisting around. This isn’t like any other high she’s ever had.

oOo

Gabriel groans, as he slips his phone out, quickly selecting Castielle’s number.

It rings once before cutting straight to voicemail. It’s a male voice, deep and snarky. “Hey, this is Castielle’s phone. She’s currently cruising at 50,000 feet, and there's _definitely_ turbulence ahead! So don’t bother leaving a message!”

He sighs, before heaving himself off the floor, and calling the only other person he has on speed dial.

Sam answers quickly, with a casual, “hey.” Gabriel can hear video games in the background, and Dean cursing.

“Sam,” he pants. “I need you, asshole!”

Sam’s tone turns serious, and Gabriel and practically hear his jaw clenching. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Yeah asshat?! You’re interrupting game night!” Dean calls, and Gabriel hears the phone beeping onto speakerphone.

“It’s _Cas_ , Sam. I’m by the sheriff office. I need your help, okay.”

Surprisingly, it’s Dean who answers him. “We’ll be there.”

oOo

True to their word, the Winchester’s pull up in the shiny impala, minutes later. Gabriel climbs into the backseat, and Sam gasps, looking at his bruised face.

“What happened?” he asked, his tone concerned.

“I face smashed the pavement, someone pushed me down after I tried to go after her.” He says, fumbling to pull his phone back out of his pocket.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know, I got called to pick her up from the station after she got arrested, but when I got there she was gone. Crowley got her out. And then, I called her, and got this message.”

He doesn’t miss the way Sam’s body tenses as he mentions Crowley, and he knows Dean doesn’t either, by the concerned look he shoots his brother. Gabriel puts the phone on loudspeaker, as it rings, Sam asks,

“Are you sure she’s not just kidding around, you know, like a game? Maybe she’s just messing with you?”

“Not our style.” Gabriel deadpans, eyes focused on his phone. Cas wouldn’t mess around with him, not ever. They just don’t play like that, not since their mother died, not ever.

The phone rings a few more times, but instead of going to voice mail, this time, someone picks up.

_“Gabriel. I was hoping you’d call back.”_

It’s Lucifer’s voice. It has to be, the same rich tones, and hint of coldness.

“You bastard, where’s Cas!” Dean shouts.

Lucifer chuckles. _“Who’s that, is that Dean? My, my, she was right about you. Always gotta play the hero, right Dean? Well, you’ve been doing a pretty shoddy job of it. How is Sam, by the way?”_

There's something in the tone of his voice as he mentions Sam’s name that doesn’t sit right with Dean or Gabriel. Both shoot a worried glance to the younger Winchester, who looks pale. Dean opens his mouth to ask him a question, but Sam just shakes his head.

Gabriel looks to Sam a moment longer, before turning his attention back to the phone. “Where is she, asshole?”

_“ I’ve got her, she’s safe- sheesh, relax! But I can’t guarantee she’s gonna be safe for very long.”_

“ _Bastard!_ What kind of game are you playing!” Gabriel asks. His eyes are dark, darker than Sam thinks he’s ever seen them, and his fists are tightly clenched at his sides.

_“There's no game! No trick, trickster. I’m just playing fair. Meet me in the old Community Arts centre. Come alone.”_

The phone call ends with a click, and frustrated, Gabriel snaps his phone shut. The three boys are silent, glancing at each other anxiously. Gabriel drags a hand through his honey coloured hair, a habit he’s picked up off of Sam. Sam doesn’t miss the way Dean’s fingers grip tighter on the steering wheel, and his eyes narrow. Sam can’t help but wonder why the minute he heard Lucifer’s voice, he wanted to throw up. There was just something so familiar about his leering tone, and a flash goes through his mind, an image he can’t make out. Everything is blurry, and he leans back in the car-seat. He hear Lucifer groan out his name, before he hears Dean’s voice again, calling him back to reality.

“Don’t worry, Gabe. We’ll get him.” Dean says, taking a left. “We’ll think of something.”

oOo

Lucifer walks around from the side of the building, re-joining the group.

“Sorry guys, just had to take a quick phone call.” He says, tucking his phone back in his pocket. He locks eyes with Crowley, who nods at him.

“No worries,” Crowley says, hands in the pockets of his coat. “Now, shall we pop inside?” he gestures to the building in front of them.

Castielle recognises the Arts Centre. When she was young and her mother was still alive, Amelia Novak would often help out and run workshops. Cas was only very little, but she’d often go along too- painting and playing with the other children.

The arts funding was cut off a few years ago, and the building mostly goes unused. But not tonight. Red light shines from the windows onto the front lawn, giving everything a tinted, hazy glow.

“This is _amazing!”_ Daisy exclaims, her eyes wide.

Cas doesn’t say anything, but feels Lucifer’s arm snake around her waist. “This is where the rich kids come to die.” He says.  


He runs forwards, theatrically swinging the door open and ushering the girls and Crowley inside, before rushing in after them, scooping up Cas in his arms and running down the hallway with her. Her vision is still blurred from whatever high she must be on, and everything in the building is still carrying the red tint. It’s harder from the inside, more intense.

Still, she laughs as Lucifer whisks her into a different room, and suddenly everything is blue. It hurts her eyes a little, and she squints as she’s set down, before glancing around her. The room isn’t busy, there's maybe seven or eight people dancing and drinking, as loud music reverberates through the walls. Daisy retches in the corner, clutching her stomach.

“I think I feel a bit rough.” She whines. Lucifer smirks.

“Crowley, I think you should take Daisy to the bathroom. Make sure she’s okay.” He says. Crowley nods, before placing a hand on Daisy’s back, ushering her to the door.

Before Cas can ask questions, or turn back to her inebriated friend, Lucifer’s pulling her through _another_ door, his grip tight around her wrist. Everything is darker now, and the room is shadowy.

The music quietens as Lucifer pulls the door shut behind him. “Finally, we’re alone.” He sighs, pulling her towards him roughly with a jerk on her wrists. He pushes his face forwards, kissing her soundly. Cas reciprocates, of course, she knows what happens when Lucifer doesn’t get his way.

But then, suddenly the lights in the room flicker open, and a voice calls out. “Not quite.”

Lucifer grins, and Cas turns to be faced with Crowley, standing by the pool table.

“What- where’s Daisy?” she asks. _How did Crowley even get here?_ She wonders, before spotting another door in the other end of the room. But _where is Daisy?_

“Poor lamb wasn’t feeling well. She’s gone home.” He says with a shrug, unbuttoning his coat and setting it down on the table. “So I guess it’s just the three of us. That okay, Castielle?”

oOo

It’s cold outside, as Gabriel glances towards the building. Red light filters through the windows behind him, casting a shadow on his face. Dean and Sam, of course, had tried to come with him, but he knows this is something he has to do on his own. Lucifer has something personal against him, and he needs to find out what it is.

He turns, heading towards the side door entrance.

The music pounds in his ears as he pushes his way through the room. Everything is loud and bright and it’s like a sensory overload, blasting through his eyes, ears, nose and mouth.

He calls out her name, but doubts she’d even hear him over the thumping music. People run past him with glow-sticks and masks, laughing and growling like animals. One pushes him against the wall and he flinches, but the offender just laughs and runs back down the hall.

He spots two shadows of a guy and a girl kissing, and immediately runs forwards, peering around the wall. It’s not Cas, it’s Ruby, and some guy he doesn’t know. She just smirks at him, like she knows something he doesn’t.

People dance around him, lights in the air and bottles on the ground in a room that’s completely blue, until he spots a side door in the corner, and hesitantly steps towards it.

He breathes, counts to three, and then opens it to reveal a pool table, a bar, and four boys leaning around it, cards in their hands.

“Gabriel, how are you?” a voice says. Gabriel soon recognises Crowley, as he shrugs his hood down. “You any good at poker? We’re playing five card stud?” he nods to the table.

“I’m looking for my sister, actually.” He replies, clenching his fists in his hands, and breathing deeply to calm down. Because he can’t look at Crowley without wanting to skin him alive.

“Oh, she’s over there.” He nods to the side, where she lays.

Cas is laid horizontal on a sofa, eyes shut. Her skin is deathly pale, the blood almost drained from her face. “Shit, Castielle! Cas!” Gabriel pants, rushing forwards and shaking her body. “What happened? Cas, please, what happened! Someone call an ambulance!”

Crowley nods to the door, and everyone exits the room, as he leans against the pool table. He doesn’t bother replying to Gabriel, so the trickster quickly pulls his phone out of his pocket, attempting to dial 911.

“Hello, emergency services?” the voice says.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” Says a voice from behind him. _Crap. Lucifer._

Gabriel Doesn’t know how he didn't notice the tall blonde leaning against the bar behind him, but now they're almost nose to nose, Gabriel trying not to arch away from him.

“I need an ambulance please!” he breathes into the phone, not once tearing his eyes away from Lucifer’s cold, icy ones.

“Where are you, sir?

Suddenly, Gabriel remembers nothing about where he is, he remembers nothing but Cas. The look on her ghostly pale face.

 But it’s too late, because Lucifer’s hand darts forwards, ripping the phone from Gabriel’s ear, and tossing it to the ground with a sickening crunch. “Oops.” He shrugs, with a grin.

“What the fuck’re you doing?!” Gabriel yells.

Lucifer moves closer still, smirking. “Okay. Let’s make a deal. We’ll call an ambulance, as soon as you fuck your sister. Off you pop.”

Gabriel frowns, trying to drag Castielle’s body into a sitting position. “What the fuck? No! what are you talking about!”

Crowley laughs, but Lucifer is the one to reach forwards, giving Gabriel a hard shove. “Go on Gabriel! You’ll fuck anyone, right?!” he yells.

“You're sick!”

“I’m sick?” Lucifer roars, and Gabriel swears his eyes are ablaze. Lucifer lunges forwards, grabbing Gabriel by the throat. “Don’t you understand what all this is about?!”

“What? No! Why are you doing this?” Gabriel asks desperately, eyes darting between Lucifer and Crowley.

“Anna!” Lucifer hollers.

“What about her?” because when did this have anything to do with Gabriel’s redheaded ex-girlfriend. Heck, he hadn’t seen Anna since the day they broke up.

“ _She’s my sister!”_

The room falls silent, and for the first time in his life Gabriel is completely shocked into silence.

“ _Anna Milton_ is _MY FUCKING SISTER, Gabriel!_ And you fucked her over, _so many times._ And _every_ time, she would go crawling back! I want you to hurt _your_ sister, like you hurt mine!”

“Lucifer, please, I swear I didn't know!” his eyes widen, because Gabriel’s heard stories. He knows how dangerous Lucifer can be.

“ _BULLSHIT_!”

“I swear.” Gabriel pants. “Please, help her. _Please_!”

Lucifer lunges, pushing Gabriel to the floor. His eyes are roaring, his skin boiling and Gabriel’s eyes grow in fear. Lucifer holds Gabriel down, legs straddling either side of his hips.

“She’s _dying_ over there Gabriel!” he shouts, right in his face. “You better get HARD!” he cups Gabriel’s crotch for good measure, and his face his so close, Gabriel can hardly breathe.

“Lucifer, wait- maybe you shouldn’t-”

Lucifer turns momentarily, and through his teary vision, Gabriel see’s Crowley flinch, before stepping backwards.

 “Shut the fuck up Crowley! This little asshole has had it coming for _so long_!”

His hands reach to Gabriel’s waist, hoisting his shirt over his head. “Come on _GABE_. She’s _Dying!_ Don’t worry, you won't be the first, she's hardly a virgin. She’s had quite a few before me, and you’ll never guess who she _fucked_ just before, Gabriel? _Dean fucking Winchester._ I bet you never expected that one, eh? And trust me, you won't be the last either- no, when you’re done- I'll see to her nice and good whilst she’s still sleeping.”

Gabriel’s heart almost stops at the mention of Dean, because- _wait, what?_ But then, he can feel Lucifer’s fingers tracing his sides, and he can see Crowley out of the corner of his eye, glaring.

“No, Lucifer, please! I'll do anything, just not that, I-” Gabriel sobs, but Lucifer’s left hand just clutches tighter around his throat, before reaching his hand out next to them. Crowley hands him a long shiny silver blade. And all Gabriel can think of is Sam. How he’ll never see Sam again, as the cool blade traces over his abdomen.

“Please, no.” he sobs, his voice barely a whisper.

“Beg me.” Lucifer spits, breath hot in his ear.

“Please. I beg you.” Gabriel cries out, but his voice breaks and it comes out as a desperate.

Lucifer smirks. And for a second, Gabriel thinks he’s safe.

“Well,” he sighs. “Considering you asked so nicely…”

The blade burns as it pierces his skin. He cries out in pain, but before it can get to deep, a blunt blow is delivered to the back of Lucifer’s head wth a hefty _thud_ , and he slumps to the side, unconscious, bloody blade still in hand.

Gabriel’s vision is blurry, but he sits up wincing, to the figure of Crowley, holding a hefty book in his hand. “Antsy little prick, isn’t he?” he mumbles.

He tosses Gabriel a white strip of bandages. “Apply pressure to that, you don’t want to bleed out.” He says.

Gabriel is confused, but takes Crowley’s outstretched hand to help him up, as he hastily wraps the bandage around his middle. Crowley hands him his shirt back, and he pulls it over his head.

“I- but, I- I thought that-”

 

Crowley raises his hand, stopping him midsentence. “Don’t mention it.”

Gabriel frowns, before glancing over to Castielle’s sleeping form. He needs to get out, get her to a hospital but, _Crowley_ and _Sam_ and _Dean fucking Winchester_ go racing through his brain, and suddenly Lucifer’s blade is in his hand, pressed to Crowley’s throat.

“You asshole- what you did, to Sam, you-”

Crowley’s hands go up. “No way, Shortstack, I know what you think. It wasn’t me that raped your boyfriend. I’ve done some bad things, in my time- but _never_ that.”

 _“Bullshit._ ” Gabriel hisses, pushing harder. “Sam- he said that-”

“I brought him round, spoke to him. Teased him a bit. But then, Lucifer drugged him, and raped him in my office. I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry.”

Gabriel has a moral debate with himself, the blade pressed tightly at Crowley’s throat but his eyes attached to his sister, and he knows what needs to be done. He drops the blade, tossing it to the ground, and rushes over to Castielle.

He scoops up her pale body in his arms, and looks back to Crowley, who rubs his throat. “Don’t think for one second, me and you are okay. Next time I see you, I _will_ kill you.”

Crowley just smirks. “Nice doing business with you.”

oOo

“Dean, there!” Sam calls, pointing out a shadowy figure walking across the gravel, and Dean turns the car so the headlights shine forwards, bringing the image of Gabriel, carrying the unconscious form of Castielle in his arms.

Both Sam and Dean rush out the car, Dean’s eyes focused on Cas, Sam’s on the bloodstain at the side of Gabriel’s torn shirt .

“What the fuck happened to her?” Dean asks in a panicked shout, the same time that Sam calls, “Are you okay?”

Gabriel’s lip quivers slightly, tears forming in his eyes. “It’s all my fault.” Is all he says, voice quiet.

“We’ve gotta get her to hospital. Get in!” Dean says frantically, emerald eyes wide. Sam shrugs off his jacket, hanging it around Gabriel’s shoulders as he notices the goose bumps on his arms.

“Okay. It’s okay. You’ll be okay, Gabe.” Sam says, but Gabriel stays quiet. He doesn’t speak, as the three of them walk towards the impala, Cas tucked into Gabriel’s lap as he sits in the backseat.

Sam’s eyes dart between the both of them from the rear view mirror, his pained, worried expression warming Gabriel’s heart. He doesn’t deserve someone like Sam. Not after everything he’s done.

Dean’s knuckles are almost white as he grips the steering wheel, glancing behind him to Cas pale, forlorn figure, as the streetlights wash across her face.

The impala, for once, is silent, and Dean swears he can see Gabriel crying.

oOo

She looks wrong laying in the hospital bed, gown draped around her and various tubes sticking out of her body. Her eyes remain shut, but the heart monitor keeps on beating.

They all sit around her body, Gabriel, Sam and Cas on one side. Chuck and Becky on the other. Chuck grips her hand tightly, rubbing his thumb over it.

“Do you think she can hear us?” Becky asks.

“I don’t know.” Chuck whispers.

“Cas, love, wake up.” Becky says softly, reaching out to stroke a lock of Cas’ dark hair. “Her hands are cold, is that normal?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” Chuck repeats.

“She can hear us, I think.” Gabriel says.

“I think we’ve had more than enough from you.” Chuck snaps, but his voice is a calm whisper. Still, his words stab Gabriel through the chest. The Doctor approaches them, scribbling something down on the medical chart hooked to the end of Cas’ bed.

“Doctor, is she…?” Chuck asks, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t know if he can.

The Doctor looks up, to the family, shrugging casually, “Oh yeah, everything looks fine. She’s good, yeah. I’d go so far as great,” he says. “These kids are remarkably resilient creatures, you know.”

Chuck scoffs, but The Doctor ignores him.

“It’s all out. And what isn’t, will come out in a few days, one way or the other.-” Becky frowns. He glances back to the chart, “She took some very pure, clean pharmaceuticals.”

Chuck sighs, and Gabriel’s eyes don’t leave her sleeping form. _She’s okay_ is all he thinks. _She’s gonna be okay._ He feels Sam’s hand creep over to his, locking their fingers together. He holds on, but doesn’t squeeze back.

The Doctor moves on, walking out of the ward. Chuck glares at his son.

“So, I guess we should be congratulating you, for getting her _clean_ drugs, then?” Chuck spits, shooting a disapproving glare at Gabriel.

“You think this was _me_?!”

“She was with you!” Chuck shouts.

“I wasn’t- I was!”

“Don’t deny it.” Becky says, looking down to the ground. _Great._ Not even _Becky_ is on his side.

“She’s you're _little_ _sister_ , Gabriel! You’re supposed to protect her!” Chuck snaps.

“I- I do! I- did- No, listen, for a second-”

“No Gabriel! I’ve had _enough_ of listening to you. You and your _horrid_ little ways! And always at other peoples expense!?”

“Hey! That enough!” Sam snaps, shocking everyone. Chuck frowns.

“ _What?!”_

“He _loves_ Cas, okay? He’s heard enough.” Sam says.

“Yeah.” Dean agrees. “He’d never hurt her. So drop it, okay?”

“And who the _Fuck_ are you two?!”

“I’m his _boyfriend_ , this is his _best friend._ ”

“And I'm his _fucking father_.”

“I know what you are.” Sam says, frowning. “Come on Gabe, let’s go.”

“No- I should stay with Cas-”

“Gabriel, come on.” Sam repeats, standing up. Gabriel stands, their fingers still locked and the three exit the room. Only now does Gabriel acknowledge the pain shooting through his side.

But as he glances at Dean, slotting coins into a vending machine, it fades, and his fists clench, letting go of Sam’s hand. Sam’s about to question him, but Gabriel lunges forwards, swinging and connecting with Dean’s face.

Dean, unprepared, stumbles backwards, clutching his face. “What the fuck was that for?!” he yells.

“ _That_ ,” Gabriel pants, breaths becoming shallow. “ _That_ , was for fucking my little sister!”

Dean is too shocked to reply, and Sam rushes forwards as Gabriel's eyes roll back in his skull, and he passes out, falling into Sam’s arms. The Winchester brother’s lock eyes, and a silent conversation passes between them, before Dean sighs, looking towards the ground and nods, admitting defeat.

“ _Dammit Dean!_ ” he groans, before calling out. “ _Doctor_! We need a doctor in here!” as he watches the bleeding patch at Gabriel’s side grow rapidly.


	8. Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Sam are both broken. Dean and Cas give up cigarettes for good. Benny and Jo finally get together. Meg gives Sam a moment of Clarity. Garth swears that pounding in his skull is familiar. Crowley knows she will be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas. this is the end. there will be a sequel, ofc! but I don't know when i'll get around to writing it because I'm working on a Perks of Being a Wallflower destiel/sabriel au, with Cas as Charlie (awh) and my FBI AU still lurks in my journal where i've been swearing i'll write it for the past 19398797379 years.

Chapter Nine: Everyone

The last day of summer at school is strange. The corridors feel empty without Gabriel laughing beside him, making fun of people, dropping candy wrappers everywhere.

Dean is still beside him, of course, but he is slouched, eyes dark and heavy from lack of sleep, permanent frown etched on his face.

The two haven’t really spoken much since their last visit to the hospital. If Sam is honest, he doesn’t know what to say. All he knows, is that the night after Gabriel and Castielle were taken in, Dean moved back into their old house (legally his, considering he is eighteen), and hasn’t left, except to sit as close to Cas’ bedside he can get.

They keep things between themselves. Chuck and Becky don't know. Bobby and Ellen don't know. The information spreads through their little group quickly, but everyone keeps it quiet. Pamela, their teacher, probably knows, she knows everything- but she isn’t saying anything.

Sam walks towards his locker, quickly turning the code to empty it out. He had never really used the locker much, but there are a few books and things inside that he wants to take back with him.

Dean leans on some lockers across the hall from him, pulling out his phone. Sam doesn't have to look for very long, before realising he is probably texting Castielle, had been released several days previous, but under bed rest.

Gabriel had been released the night before, and Sam smiles to himself as he opens the door to his locker, anticipating visiting him. But he is quickly distracted, as a white piece of paper falls into his hands.

Frowning, Sam opens it, eyes skimming across the black letters. He nods to his brother, who walks over. “Look at this.” He says, motioning to the letter. He tilts it so Dean can see, before beginning to read aloud:

_Dear ~~Moose~~  Sam._

_If you’re reading this on the last day of school (which you probably are, because you never use your locker) I’m already gone. I’m going away for a bit. I don’t know how long for. I’m moving down south with my parents. I might see you, and the other guys again but- I don’t really know._

_I'm sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry for what happened to Jo. I’m sorry for what happened to Gabriel and poor little Castielle._

_See you whenever._

_Meg_

“Holy crap.” Sam breathes, folding the paper and slipping it into his back pocket. “Meg is, gone?”

“Seems so.” Dean shrugs, but he isn’t that bothered.

“Wow. I guess it’s juts, weird- for her to just up and go like that, you know?”

But Dean isn’t listening, he’s back to his phone, and Sam sighs. “Come on, Dean. Let’s go outside, see the other’s yeah?”

“It’s Benny’s birthday.” Dean mutters, as he pushes his cell back into his pocket and follows Sam through the corridor.

“Really?” Sam asked, surprised. “I didn't know.” He says as they head out of the doors, towards the green where Garth, Jo and Benny are already sitting, in their usual spot by the oak tree.

“Guys!” Jo calls, pulling a spliff from her mouth and waving at them to come over. Both the Winchester boys smile, heading towards the trio. It doesn’t take them log to reach the little semi-circle where the three sit, a tin in the middle, and rolling papers laid out around them.

“You’re smoking pot, _on school grounds?_ ” Sam asks incredulously as he and Dean sit, closing the circle. Jo shrugs.

“It’s the last day, _and_ it’s Benny’s birthday! We’re celebrating surviving this damn long!” she says with a laugh, before offering the spliff to Dean, who accepts.

“Fine. You better hope Bobby doesn’t catch you though-” Dean warns. Jo just rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” She laughs.

“Happy birthday Benny.” Sam says with a smile, as Dean passes the joint to him. Benny smiles back.

“Thanks Sam. Gabriel and little Cas doin’ okay?” he asks. Sam nods, and Dean’s lips thin slightly.

“So, you having a party?” Dean asks. Benny just groans.

“My parents are dead set on throwing me some dumb party in the sports club.” He groans. “Still. You guys are free to come.”

“Will there be drugs?” Garth asks, hopeful.

“Absolutely not?”

“ _Drink_?”

“None.”

“Sex?”

“ _Never_.”

“Anything, _remotely_ fun?” Garth sighs. Benny shakes his head.

Jo gives Garth a shove. “Come on Garth, do we really _need_ drugs, sex and booze to have a good time?”

“ _Yes_ , actually. Going by our track record- _we do_.”

oOo

“So, what do you think?” Jo asks, stepping into Dean and Sam’s shared bedroom. It’s strange seeing both the brothers in there again, together. Dean hasn’t been back to Bobby’s since Cas went into hospital.

“Whoa, seriously?” Dean asks incredulously, taking in Jo’s attire. She’s wearing a short, tight, strapless black dress that barely skims her mid-thigh, high black heels, her hair voluminous and curly.

“What?” she asks innocently, clipping in an earring.

“Seriously, Jo- Benny has seen you in a hello kitty t-shirt and cropped jeans. He’s seen you with and without all your teeth, _and_ he saw you when you beat up that girl and her braces cut your face and dripped blood all over you. He’s _already_ hot for you.”

Jo blushes, before scowling at her pseudo-brother. “Fuck you Dean.” She says, leaning against the wall. Dean just laughs, and Sam smiles.

“You seen Gabriel yet?” she asks, turning to her other brother. Sam shakes his head.

“Apparently, Chuck doesn’t want mine and Dean’s corrupting influence on _either_ of his children. Gabriel says he’ll sneak out later.” Sam says, tapping at his laptop a few more times before closing it. “You ready to go?” he asks. Jo nods.

“Good luck getting out the door without Bobby tying a chastity belt around your waist.” Dean says, and Jo gives him a shove.

“You think I haven’t planned for that?” she asks, before reaching into Sam’s closet and pulling out one of his winter coats. It skims her knees, causing Dean and Sam to smirk. “Right. You guys distract mom and Bobby. I'll get out the front door.”

oOo

Benny’s party is exactly how he described it. He and Garth lean against the punch table, and occasionally one of Benny’s many relatives will come by, slip him forty dollars and tell them how big he's grown and how proud they are of him for doing so well in college.

Dean, Sam and Jo walk in, and it’s like a weight has lifted. Jo _glows_. Well, to Benny- she always glows, but tonight, there’s something else. The way the light reflects of her eyes, like sunlight streaming through a puddle.

“Hey.” He says quietly, as the three walk up to him. Jo smiles.

“Happy birthday, asshat.” She says, giving him a light punch on the arm.

“You want anything to drink?” he asks, her, nodding to the other drinks table, furthest from the group.

“Sure.” She grins, as her and Benny walk off to the drinks table in the far corner of the room. She glances behind her as they walk off, glaring at Sam and Dean, who both give her a sarcastic thumbs up.

“How much do you wanna bet those two are fucking?” Garth says, sipping at fruit punch. Dean just snorts

“What’re you drinking?” he asks, smirking at the little plastic cup in Garth’s hand. Garth nods to the fruit punch bowl by his back. “Looks… appetizing…” Dean says.

“Yeah, I thought that too-” Garth says, before reaching into his jacket pocket. “B _ut_ I livened it up a bit.” He gives the Winchester’s a flash of a bottle of vodka, before grinning.

“You can’t spike a punch bowl! This isn’t a high school prom movie, this is Benny’s family party you ass!” Sam says, but it’s too late because Dean and Garth are cracking up, as Dean scoops two cupful’s, pushing one into Sam’s chest.

“Here, drink this. Loosen up a little, yeah?” he says, grinning. Sam rolls his eyes, before taking a sip at the drink. He winces.

“That’s very, _very_ strong.” He says, before placing the cup back down on the table. His eyes flit over to the exit, and he rocks on the balls of his feet. Dean sighs beside him.

“ _Relax_ , Sammy. He’ll be here. Gabriel never goes back on his word, you know that. Remember when we made him-”

“I know, I know.” Sam interrupts, nodding. “I just… I just wanna see him, okay? I think I, uh, I think I love him-”

“Speaking of love…” Garth mumbles, nodding to the corner. Benny’s lips are attached to Jo’s, his hands resting at her hips. Sam smiles, but Dean grimaces.

“What?” he protests, as Garth and Sam glare at him. “Do I really wanna watch my sister make out with someone? Come _on_.”

oOo

The party continues for the next hour. Jo and Benny sneak off into a backroom somewhere, Dean doesn’t want to think about _that_. Garth gets drunker and drunker, drinking cup after cup of the punch on the table. Sammy gets increasingly antsier, rocking back and forth against the walls, eyes locked on the exit.

And for once, he understands how Sam feels.

Dean Winchester has never been in love before, unless you count his car, and his record collection. But everywhere he looks, people are attached. Benny and Jo. Sam and Gabriel, even if the short-stack isn’t present, Dean _knows_ Sam is thinking about him, by the crease in his forehead.

Countless numbers of Benny’s family members, aunts and uncles who have been married for years. And then there’s Garth, of course, slurring his words as he makes conversation with one of Benny’s pretty cousins.

The room is too hot, the streamers and balloons too bright, and Dean needs some air. He walks through the hall and to the exit quickly, leaning against the wall at the side of the building. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette, balances it between his teeth.

He’s just pulled out his zippo lighter, flicking it on before a voice behind him says; “Those things’ll kill you, you know.”

He turns, taking the cigarette back between his fingers, and his breath hitches.

Cas stands, in a navy dress that creeps up her thin pale legs, black ankle boots, and his leather jacket swallowing her bony figure. Her blue eyes dance behind layers of dark makeup, and she smiles at him.

He opens his mouth to speak, before he notices Gabriel, only limping slightly, catching up behind. “G-Gabe! I-”

“No worries Dean-o. All is forgiven, I guess. I mean, it’s not ideal but, I’m fucking your brother so… I can understand. I’m okay with it.” Gabriel says, shooting the older Winchester a smile. “Now. I need to go and see Sammy. I’m guessing he’s inside.”

Dean nods, speechless. Gabriel hobbles forwards, brushing past Dean as he walks to the building. As his mouth hovers at Dean’s arm, he leans up, whispering.

“You hurt her, _ever_ , you're dead. Capeech?”

Dean just nods, again, and with a quiet thud from the door, he’s alone again with Cas, in the night. She slips the jacket from her shoulders, holding it out to him.

“Thought you might want this back?” she says. He shakes his head, tucking his unlit cigarette into his back pocket as he steps towards her.

“It looked better on you anyway.” He says, smiling. She laughs, shoulders shaking slightly. The cuts and bruises on her arm are almost completely gone, but Dean still reaches out, tracing them with one of his fingers.

“How was the hospital?”

“Better than at home.” She shrugs. “I’m on watch 24/7 now, considering I’m a hopeless addict.”

“Right, right. Guess you’ll just have to break the rules now, instead of avoiding them?”

She smiles, her pink tongue darting out between her teeth.  “Yeah. I guess so.”

“If I told you that you looked beautiful in the moonlight, would that be too cliché?” he asks. She shakes her head.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. Because you do. You always look beautiful to me.”

She sighs, looking at the ground. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. “For everything.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Jailbait. None of it was.”

She smiles, despite herself. “You called me Jailbait again.”

“How many times Cas, I call you Jailbait, because that’s what you are.” He breathes with a smile, leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “You’re mystery, intrigue, curiosity, sophistication. You are easily, the most breath-taking person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

“Okay,” she laughs. “Maybe _that part_ was cheesy.”

He grins. “Worth it though, right?”

“I'll say.” She agrees, tiptoeing up. Their faces participate in a strange dance, hovering close to each other but not touching. They can both feel the hot exchange of breath on their lips, blue eyes locked into green, daring each other to make the first move.

This time, they go together, both leaning in at the same time, a soft exchange of love and forgiveness. His hands trail a path up her face, loosely resting in her hair. Hers go to his face, stroking against his cheeks. Her back arches into his front, and suddenly, it’s like the first time, all over again.

“Hey. Wanna get out of here?” he whispers, pulling away only far enough so their lips can't touch. She nods, eyes wide and excited.

“Yeah. let’s- let’s just drive, for a bit?” she asks, turning and glancing to the impala which sits in the parking lot behind them.

Dean is already fishing the car keys from his pocket, grinning at her, before reaching down her arm and grabbing her hand. Everything feels _so right_ as her long fingers slip into his, fitting perfectly. Almost like they were made for each other.

Cas thinks, maybe they were.

oOo

Sam’s eyes don’t travel far around the room. Punch table, to check Garth isn’t drunkenly embarrassing himself in front of Benny’s relatives, the stage, where a shitty band is playing, but the lead singers eyes are almost the same shade of honey mixed with whiskey as he knows, and then back to the door, which remains closed.

Until it doesn’t.

After the thousandth glance, the door creaks open slightly, and a person hobbles in. a boy, he’s short, barely 5’7/8, with eyes the perfect shade of golden, and hair that Sam can never quite tell if it’s blonde or brown. the boy limps slightly, a pain obvious in his side.

Sam is running before he realises it. People in the crowd move out of his way, because Sam sometimes forgets his own strength, and how likely it would be that he could just knock someone out of the way.

Gabriel scans the other half of the room, and doesn’t notice Sam until he crashes into him, almost making Gabriel fall if the moose’s strong hands hadn’t gripped behind him, catching him.

“Ouch, watch you don’t pull out my stitches, _gigantor_!” he sneers, but one look into Sam’s puppy dog eyes, his face melts into a grin. He can't lean up, because it still hurts, so Sam leans down, pressing their foreheads together.

“I missed you so much.” Sam breathes, planting kisses all around Gabriel’s face, causing the shorter boy to laugh, and squirm.

“Sam! Sammy, come on- you know I missed you too!” Gabriel replies with a grin, and slips his hands into Sam’s, gripping it tightly. Sam settles on pressing his forehead against his, their faces close, but not touching.

“I love you- Gabriel. I love you so much, okay?” he says. Gabriel just smiles, small and sincere.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asks with a sigh, leaning up, bearing through just a little pain to plant a kiss at Sam’s lips. “I love you, sasquatch. Now, can we get _out_ _of_ _here_? I haven’t gotten my hands on you in _too long_.” He whines, pressing a hand against Sam’s firm chest.

Sam just smirks, standing back, bringing one of Gabriel's hands to his lips. “Absolutely, and I will meet you back at Bobby’s, considering him and Ellen are out for the night. But there’s just one thing I have to do first.”

OOo

Sam doesn’t know how he knows she will be there, but he just does.

It’s a bench, overlooking one of the more, rocky, mountain areas in Sioux falls. It’s out reasonably far, and not many people know about it. He remembers finding it when he was 13, and bringing Meg here with him. How her dark eyes went wide with excitement, and she told him that it was her new favourite place in the world, and she’d never leave Sioux Falls, without saying goodbye to it at least once.

She’s there, of course, the one streetlamp along the dirt track reflecting a pool of light at her feet. “I thought you’d be here.” He says, approaching from behind. She doesn’t jump, just smirks, as Sam rounds the bench, sitting beside her.

“I just guess I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, with a sigh. “I think I had to say goodbye properly. That’s why I came to find you.”

“Thanks Sam.”

“You’re welcome.”

A moment of silence passes between them both, their eyes locked on the shadowy landscape. There's a beat, before she turns to him, asking.

“Will you tell Cas something, from me?”

He nods. “Uh, sure. What is it?”

“Lucifer was bad news from the start, but I think she knew that already. He always had been. But there was something… something in the way that he looked at her when they were together- something that I’ve never seen in him before. He did care for her. Despite everything, despite how cold and evil we know he is- she got to him. She really did. She’s clever, you know? Smartest person I know, and she wormed her way in. I don’t know how she did it but- I guess he just never looked at me like that.”

Sam doesn’t know what to say, especially considering all the things Lucifer has done to people he knows, like Cas and Gabriel. Awful, awful things. Sam wonders if Lucifer is dead. If Crowley killed him like Gabriel said. But Gabriel is a liar, even Sam knows that.

“Do you have to go?” he asks, sighing. She nods.

“Yeah. too many bad memories for me, around here.” She sighs. “Beside, you guys don’t need me- not really. You’ve got Gabriel. Jo’s got Benny, Dean’s got Cas-”

Sam freezes. “How did you know? About Dean and Cas?”

Meg just smirks. “I always knew Sam. From the way he looked at her at Garth’s party… I knew.”

They fall into silence again, because Sam’s run out of things to say. Meg says that Castielle’s clever, which is true- but Meg is the smartest person he’s ever met.

Meg stands silently, and slinks away into the shadows. He sits and listens to the click of her boots against the ground until he can’t hear it anymore. He takes one last look at the bench, and pulls the penknife Dean gave him out of his pocket. He flicks the blade, and carves two words into the hard wood.

_Meg Masters._

Then he stands, and he leaves.

oOo

The firsts that night are many. Benny and Jo have sex, for the first time in a janitor’s closet, before the party wraps up, and he takes her to back to Garth’s room in the student dorms. He doesn’t know where Garth is, only that he left with one of his cousins. Benny doesn’t care.

Garth has sex in a strangers house, in a strangers room again. But something is different. There is a pounding in his head, behind his skull, and he does everything not to think that the feeling is familiar, before he downs the rest of the bottle of vodka, and passes out.

Dean and Cas don’t have sex, for once. They have an adventure, a near- _life_ experience in Dean’s Imapla, driving through the empty town at midnight, laughing and blaring Metallica and ACDC from the cassette player. He asks her, what will Chuck and Becky think about her not being home in the morning? She says she doesn’t care.

He takes her back to his house, the one that is now in his name. He thinks that maybe, it could be _their_ house one day, as he carries her in his arms, over the threshold, and up the stairs. He kisses every inch of her he can reach, and she wriggles out of her dress and boots, into her underwear, before clambering between his dark bed sheets. He undresses and joins her, slipping in the bed himself- but this isn’t about sex. Not this time.

They lay together for hours, awake. They talk, and hold each other. They both smoke their way through three joints, because they’ve given up on cigarettes. Then, they fall asleep together, and for the first time- she stays all night.

Sam and Gabriel have sex for the first time in Sam’s empty room at Bobby’s. He knows his pseudo dad and Ellen won't be back for hours, so he drags it out, goes slowly, takes his time. He and Gabriel are both damaged, but Sam knows he’ll never be able to open himself up to a person like he can Gabriel. Neither of them are ready for it, and they both know it, but they can’t help themselves and let it go, just for the night.

Sam doesn’t _fuck_ Gabriel. He _makes love_ to him, slow and gentle. They both have scars, and afterwards, Sam lightly kisses the ugly black stiches in Gabriel’s side. Gabriel runs his fingers gently up Sam’s inner thigh, tracing the gash left from… Crowley? Or Lucifer?

Gabriel is liar, and he feels so awful for not telling Sam the truth. Sam falls asleep cuddling Gabriel into him, but Gabriel lays awake for hours… because he doesn’t know if he believes Crowley. Did Lucifer hurt Sam? Or has Crowley been playing them all, all along?

oOo

Crowley sits at his desk alone, pouring a glass of scotch into his glass. He pulls his phone our, scrolling through the contacts. He finds ‘meg masters’ and presses delete.

He scrolls back up to ‘Castielle Novak’ and his finger hovers over the delete button, before he locks the phone and slips it back into his pocket.

Because he _knows_ she will come back. He doesn’t know when, but he knows that she will.


	9. authors note

A sequel has been posted, under the title "Cruel World", so anyone still willing to follow Sam, Dean, Gabriel and Castielle's story, that's the place to be!

 

(I linked both stories in one series so hopefully it'll be easy to find)


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